Splintered Ties that Bind
by calla lilly rose
Summary: One letter sent the family in different directions, each seeking the peace that comes only from being together. Time takes it's toll, and love is bound by nothing.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Outsiders, or the characters.

Splintered Ties That Bind

Chapter 1 The Driveway

The four men drove up the small country road toward the row of maple trees that were ablaze with fall colors. They were all nervous, antsy. It had taken them almost two years to get to this point, and no one in the car knew if their search was finally coming to its conclusion or if this was yet another dead end.

"It's gotta be him, Darry, it's gotta be!" Soda said, voice thick with anticipation.

His excitement was catchy, but Darry refused to feel it himself. He made a left where a break in the white fencing allowed for a long dirt driveway. The car slowed as Darry noticed a metal decorative archway spanning across the entrance to the driveway with white fencing continuing on either side of it. On it was one word, welded in place as if it were made for that purpose. It was_ that_ word that had brought the four of them all the way here from Tulsa, Oklahoma. Steve was the one who had spotted it in a magazine. "Horse for Sale," it started. Steve almost threw the magazine down, but his pupils went pinpoint when his eyes glanced where to get the horse.

"Ponyboy's"

Couldn't be? After all the years of searching, false leads and bad information? Here it was, in this old _Horseman's Trader_ magazine?

He showed the advertisement to Darry and Soda that evening, and the four of them had plane tickets by midnight. Now they were here, making a left onto this small ranch, searching for an answer, an end to two years of pain and worry.

Those tall maple trees that lined the driveway were spaced just far enough apart to make you feel as if they were heralding you forward, toward something great.

Soda quietly wanted Darry to floor it, but Darry held back. His mind was full of questions and his stomach was uneasy, nervous. It certainly looked promising, this was the only lead they had come across in the year since they went to Las Vegas. However, his palms were sweaty as he drove silently on. Only when he could look in those green eyes again would he allow himself to find the peace he has been missing for the last two years.

Two years, that would make him18. Darry wondered what he'd look like, sound like. Who did he resemble most ...mom or dad, or a mix of both? A feeling of dread entered the pit of his stomach, would Pony even want to see them? After all, he had left on his own and except for the envelope they received with no forwarding address, they hadn't heard from him at all.

Soda sat there remembering the last time he had gazed upon his brothers face. Pony had just turned 16 when the letter arrived in the mail, drafting him into active duty to fight the war in Vietnam. Darry and Soda had done everything they could to keep their middle brother at home, arguing special circumstances in the family, and Soda's needed income to make ends meet.

They even tried to get Social Services to help them, but as usual they were a disappointment.

"Sodapop is 18 years old, a high school dropout, is not enrolled in college and therefore an excellent candidate for the selective service draft," said the curt little woman reviewing his file, who's frizzled hair was wrapped in a tight bun.

When that failed they appealed to the local Army Headquarters, those folks just laughed. He'd make more money in the Army than at the DX, they said. Not by much, though, thought Soda and Darry alike, and the DX wasn't as likely to send him home in a body bag either.

Soda remembered the night before he had to report for duty. Until that night, Ponyboy had been stoic, expecting Darry to get Soda out of this mess, but as darkness fell into that last night together, Ponyboy had no choice but to accept that his brother would be leaving. It hit Pony hard. Soda's own heart broke as he remembered Pony sobbing into his chest, tears soaking into his t-shirt, begging him "please don't go." Pony held onto him so tightly that as he was having his physical prior to shipping out, the bruises from the youngest brothers grip still stood out – purple splotches on his pale biceps.

Ponyboy stayed awake all night, clinging tightly to Soda and shaking like a leaf in the wind. Despite Soda's repeated attempts to coax his younger brother into sleep, no amount of gentle rubbing on his shoulders and back, or gentle fingers smoothing out the younger boys hair could calm the youngest of their family. As dawn broke, Ponyboy was too exhausted to hold him anymore, and he lay in their bed sobbing into his pillow. Later, the van arrived at their house and, shaking hands good-bye with Two-Bit, made him promise to look after Darry and Ponyboy.

"Look after my brothers, Two-Bit. Promise me. Especially Ponyboy...this is gonna hit him the hardest."

"I will, Soda, you look after yourself, ya hear?" Two-Bit was more serious than he'd ever been in his life, and was sober to boot. He could only pray his friend would return alive.

Soda glanced back on the porch to see Darry standing like a stone statue, one arm draped over Ponyboy's exhausted form standing next to him. Soda raised his hand to wave goodbye, then took his seat in the van.

Steve wasn't there, he had gone down to the recruiters office to wheel and deal. "I want to join up," Steve said, almost breaking down the recruiters doors as he barreled into their office. The sergeant sitting there at the desk smiled and stood up. _Fresh meat_, he was thinking. "But I want to stay with my buddy. You guys just hauled him out of his house – damn draft. I'll join, but I stay with him. Got it?!"

The recruiter just smiled. "Sign here, my man. We'll get the particulars later." Steve had just fallen for the biggest scam out there. A recruiter will say _anything _to get you in, but when it comes time for them to hold up their end of it, the new recruit finds himself screwed, royally. He wouldn't see Sodapop for a few months, and then, when he did, Soda's very life would be held in Steve's hands.

Now as the four of them sat anxiously in the rental car, with Darry driving painfully slow up the long driveway, tears started to shimmer in Soda's eyes from all the memories. He wiped them away and took a breath. Darry looked over at him from behind the wheel and a hand emerged from the backseat landing softly on Soda's shoulder.

"You okay, Sodapop?" asked Steve, quietly.

"Yep, just thinking." Everyone had an idea of what he was thinking, and everyone also knew what he was feeling. The war had broken him in some ways. His tough exterior had been damaged, but the interior was as solid as ever.

Darry was also in deep thoughts of his own. Those first few days after the van picked Soda up had sent everyone into a downward spiral. He knew he had to set up a routine to keep Ponyboy sane and get him through these hard days, but it was hard for him too. He himself didn't want to do anything but fall apart but knew that he couldn't. He'd wait until Pony was in another area of the house and then let the tears flow, but when Pony ventured back toward the rooms he was in, he'd toughen up again. He had to stay strong for that boy's sake if not his own. Poor Ponyboy. He watched as his youngest brother all but stopped eating and would lay around the house wearing only his sweats. Pony's eyes lost that spark and his countenance was sullen. He would pull Pony into an embrace, but he either wouldn't or couldn't return it.

"Don't give up hope, Ponyboy. It's only for a year." Pony didn't acknowledge that Darry had spoken to him, and he doubted Pony was even aware he'd said anything. Pony just floated from room to room, trance like.

In the past, Ponyboy could be found curled up on a bed or on the sofa, sometimes even perched up on the kitchen counter tops with any of the the multitudes of novels he had, nose buried deep in the stories and fantasy lands they created. Now, the books sit idle on shelves throughout the house, forgotten. Make believe was a thing of the past. There was a real danger and real pain that captivated the youths attention, much to Darry's dismay.

Even though Ponyboy wasn't physically in danger, he could sense Pony feeling it.

He had returned to sleeping in his old room, the one he used before his parents died. It was a small room, barely big enough for his bed and dresser, but he didn't complain. Pony rarely complained about anything anymore. If Soda couldn't complain about his situation, Pony certainly wouldn't complain about his either.

Darry thought maybe Pony would want to bunk in with him in Soda's absence, but Pony just shook his head at that. Darry was no Soda, and that comfort couldn't be replaced that easily.

Pony's schoolwork obviously began to suffer and for once Darry didn't say much about it. When his grades started to fall, he just gave it time. Then, when they didn't improve, he pulled Pony to him, cupped his chin so their eyes gazed into each others and as gently as he could asked him to try a little harder, for Soda's sake.

It took time, but over the ensuing months, Ponyboy seemed to dive into his studies. His grades, failing at first when Soda left, were all top marks within three months. If he could keep his mind on his work, Darry figured he wouldn't feel the biting emptiness of not having Soda with him.

XXX

Soda knew how bad Ponyboy hurt, the agony was written on his face that day as the van pulled away from their curb. There was absolutely nothing he could do about it, Darry would now have to be all he had been and more for their youngest brother. He doubted Ponyboy could take this new predicament they found themselves in and survive it whole. Ponyboy had suffered enough and for too long.

Getting him over the loss of Johnny and Dally took them almost a year and even then he wasn't all better. He was still too quiet, too withdrawn. He still, at the age of 16 didn't date, showing no interest in the girls and had zero social life. He'd just go to school, run track, come home to do his homework, cook and clean, read then go to bed. All the gang could hope for was he would come out of his shell on his own and find the fun in being with his family and friends, and maybe even girls. Then Soda's draft notice came, and he just imploded within himself again.


	2. Chapter 2

Many thanks to those who left reviews. My request for reviews was inadvertently left off at the end of the end of chapter 1.

I don't own anything from The Outsiders 

Chapter 2

Three Bullets

POP-POP-POP-POP-POP- bullets flew everywhere. Semi-automatic fire surrounded the platoon. FTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT. Bullets, screams, crying. How the hell did I end up here? I'm a fucking mechanic! Somehow the Army made me a Medic. Said I had a great ability to calm the guys and keep them laughing. I didn't realize the years I spent comforting Ponyboy in the middle of the night was training me for dealing with older boys and grown men shot down in battle.

I was given 2 weeks of Medic training while at basic training, putting in IVs and field dressings, how to give morphine and such, but nothing taught me how to deal with people my own age screaming for their mommas or girlfriends after their guts were blown out of their bodies.

In one of these moments it occurred to me that the terror I feel when called to comfort the dying is exactly what my younger brother had to do at the tender age of 14. Unlike him, I don't really know these guys...haven't been here long enough to _really_ know them, but Ponyboy knew Johnny and Dally. He stood there and watched as Johnny called out to him, said his final thoughts and drifted off. Then within two hours watched as Dally was shot down with a sickening thud, his last words being my brothers name. Both of them in one night. With all the dying around me here I could get a grasp of the immense pain that Ponyboy felt that night, but there are simply no words for it.

I also can't tell Pony I finally understand now because that would mean telling him about the horrors of war. I can't do that. I had already written to Darry about the hell I was in, but made it clear I didn't want Pony to know what I was facing. I had to spare him that pain.

My letters to Ponyboy were about the lousy food and insect bites, sleeping in tents and endless card games. I'd tell Pony to do good in school and to find a girl to be interested in. I'd ask about his college plans. I'd write about anything and everything no matter how mundane to let our youngest brother know he was in my thoughts. I left the hard stuff for Darry, and Darry had better never show Pony those letters. I mailed them to Two-Bit's house so Pony wouldn't accidentally come across them. Two-Bit knew what Darry and I were doing, and understood. After all, he had promised to look after Pony.

Darry's letters, however, had a different feel. I let him know about various firefights, the sadness and despair. Darry had asked me to.

"Don't hold anything back. You tell me everything that's going on. Don't bottle it up." Darry was smart, he knew bottled up pain turns to rage, and he wanted me to come home whole.

One of the first lessons they taught us in basic training is how the enemy can all but destroy a platoon with three bullets. The officers, radioman and the medic were the first three targeted in any battle. Take out the leadership, the ability to call for help and the guy who can keep you alive if you do get hurt, and any platoon will fail. Three bullets. That's all it takes.

On the third month that I was in country, on the third day, that bullet found it's target. Me.

The firefight was intense. Bullets raining down everywhere. I ran from wounded man to wounded man placing pressure bandages and trying to keep down as best as I could. It seemed to last all afternoon, but in reality it was only an hour or so. Finally the RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT died down and the perimeter was set. I was tending to the wounded, talking to them and trying to keep them calm. A medivac was called and was on approach. You could hear its rotors churning in the wind. Suddenly, ZZZZZZZZING! I felt a bite, like the type a horsefly makes and if you've ever been bit by one you know they hurt like the fires of hell. It was on my lower back. How did that damn bug get through my fatigues? I reached back to scratch it and pulled my hand back, covered with my own blood. Oh shit! Oh shit shit shit!

"Captain!" I yelled, staring at my bloody hand, feeling my eyes getting bigger.

"Report your problem, doc!" He yelled back.

"I've been hit, Sir!" Then I fell over into darkness.

XXX

Originally this chapter is much longer, but I have decided to split it here. I also have extensive medical training from both the military and as a civilian, so if you don't understand something, please let me know. Merry Christmas to all, and if you are serving our country, thank you, you are not forgotten. Come home safe.

HM3

Reviews! Please!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer...I don't own _The Outsiders_

Chapter 3

Letter in the Mail

School had become my escape. It was what I did to keep my mind busy, to not focus on the real issues at hand. If I kept my brain engaged in science, math, history and English than I wouldn't have time to think about Soda being gone. Not only gone but in danger. Real danger. Deadly danger. Where the gang couldn't rescue him from the enemy and the enemy wanted him dead. Dead only because he was _there. _The fact that he was there against his will wouldn't matter, not to the enemy. I saw the news on TV, I read the paper. Johnson sent them away alive and Ho Chi Minh sent them back dead. This knowledge ate at me when I thought about it. I tried not to think about it, which is why I buried myself in my school work. But everyday when I come home, I had no choice but to think about it.

I passed the DX everyday going home. Soda and Steve weren't there anymore. No more bumming Pepsi's. Some other guys were there now, taking their places. I sort of knew them but I didn't stop by.

When I'd get home everything would be quiet. The TV wasn't on, nor the radio. No one would be there leaving their shoes out for me to trip over. The mail would still be waiting in the box.

It's part of my new routine. Walk home, get the mail, go to my room and do my homework. Then do my homework from scratch again. Check to see if my first set of answers matched my second set. This kept my brain occupied usually until Darry got home or Two-Bit showed up.

Two-Bit. He wanted to give me rides home from school, but I usually avoided it. He asked too many questions like "how ya doing, kid." That is a stupid question and I was sick of it. But he is my friend and I didn't want to hurt him, so I usually beat it out of school before he found me.

The soc's were leaving us alone for once. They were too busy scampering off to college to avoid being drafted. Surprising. I'd almost welcome a good fight to put my mind somewhere else besides a jungle where the enemy lay, waiting to kill my brother.

I trudged home that day as I had for the last three months, hoping a letter from Soda was waiting for me in the box. As long as I had a letter I had hope. Most days the box was empty, except for the regular bills and junk advertisements. Guess it's hard to sit and write when someone is targeting you for destruction.

Reaching my house, I pulled out the mail and went inside. There, on top was a brown envelope. The return address and our address was typed, so there could be no mistake it was to come to us, from _them,_ the Department of the Army. It looked like that letter we got nearly four months ago, except that one was addressed to Mr. Sodapop Patrick Curtis and this one was for Mr. Darrel Shaynne Curtis, Jr. My stomach began to knot up and my head began to hurt.

I didn't want to do what I was doing, but my hands wouldn't listen. I opened the envelope and pulled out the folded paper that had been sealed inside. _Don't!_ I told my hands, but they didn't listen. My eyes began to read the words on the paper, but then my sight failed. Was it raining in the house? My face was wet. Tears. My head ached as if it were in a vice! Oh God! The pain! I couldn't think for the pain in my head. I suddenly realized I was on the floor, how did I get here? Wasn't I standing, reading the mail? Oh yeah, the mail. I looked at the paper in my hand again.

"_**We regret to inform you that your son, Sodapop Patrick Curtis, was killed in action on....**_**"**

I couldn't read anymore. They couldn't even get it right! He wasn't our "son," he was our brother! It didn't matter about what the rest of the letter said either, it was just details. Sodapop Patrick Curtis, killed in action. He was gone.

Why am I here? I looked around the house and couldn't think of a single reason for my being here. This house held nothing but sadness and pain for me. It was here that the police came to tell us Mom and Dad were dead. Here where Darry hit me. Here where I was forced to accept Johnny and Dally being dead and here where the news of Soda being killed turned from being a "possibility" to a "reality."

Suddenly, I hated it here. I _loathed_ it here. I didn't want to be here anymore. Again, my hands weren't listening to my brain. I went to my room and got out my track bag and dumped the stuff out of it, shoving most of it under my bed to get it out of my way.

I put some clothes in it, got my stuff from the bathroom, folded up what little money Darry didn't know I'd saved and put it all in my bag, I went to the living room and took a few things from in there. I took the Army letter too, don't know why but I did. I was on autopilot, my thinking was turned off.

Then I turned around, slung my bag on my shoulder and looked around the house. Laughter didn't echo off the walls anymore. Hope was gone. I turned, opened the door and walked away. Something out there had to be better than what was here, because there was nothing here for me any more.

CLR

I know...depressing. But it gets better...please don't give up on this story. I would love your honest reviews. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Empty House, Empty Heart

The house was quiet. Too quiet. I had an uneasy feeling as I walked through the front door.

"Hello? Pony? TwoBit?" I called, but no answer came. I took off my tool belt and put it in my room and stopped by Pony's bedroom door. It was closed, as usual, and I knocked. Hearing nothing from the opposite side, I turned the knob and walked in. Pony's sleeping form was not on the unmade bed, it was empty. I reached down and touched the sheets, they were cold.

Looking around the room, I noticed things were out of place. His track gear was on the floor in a jumble half shoved under his bed. Reaching down I picked up one of his shoes, these track shoes were a gift from Soda and me last year, when Pony made the state finals. He was so proud then, and cherished those shoes, why would he leave them like this? Other things weren't right. Some of his clothes were missing, not that he has a lot of clothes in the first place, but there were far too many empty hangers in the closet for them to all be here.

I went into the living room and noticed mom's piano. It was the only thing of any real value, besides their jewelery, that we held onto after they died. None of us could bear to sell it regardless of how tough things became for us from time to time. It was _her_ piano, her pride and joy, next to us, her kids.

She had tried to teach me to play when I was little, but I wanted to be outdoors with friends. She eventually gave up and, patting her growing belly, determined _this one _would learn. But he was just as stubborn as me. He wanted to scamper about with me and dad, and she was so tired too. Her belly was getting bigger again, and she was always so tired, more so this time than ever before. As her time got closer, the one inside her wore her out, and she had little energy left to fight our protests of the ivory keys. Finally he came, and after a year went by he began to walk. He had found the white and black keys intriguing, fascinated at the sounds they made when pushed on. As he got a little older he would settle down next to our mother on the piano bench and watch her intently, her face peering down softly into his green eyes, teaching him the love of music that seemed to come so naturally to them both.

When the accident silenced our mothers hands from the keys she held so dear, Ponyboy's hands also pulled away. It took a long time, but every now and then, in the years that have since passed, I swear I could hear the quiet melody of a song wafting out the cracks of the closed front door of our house. He wouldn't know I was home and I would stand there a moment, quietly, tool belt in hand, and remember how she looked at him, so proud. I was proud of him too, but I don't think he knew it.

On the piano sat our parents photographs in silver frames. We placed them there after their deaths and no one had ever touched those photo's. I noticed now as my gaze lifted from the silent ivory and black keys to those frames, that they were empty. An unsettled feeling swept over me. I returned to Ponyboy's room and looked at the wall.

Different news articles and assorted snap shots were pinned into the plaster, but there in the center was a large piece of wall where a photo should have been. The picture of the whole gang, taken when Pony turned 14, after our parents had been killed but before Johnny and Dallas met their fates. It was all Pony had wanted for a gift, and I had eventually agreed to it. I had Soda twist Steve's arm to be in it, as he rarely volunteered to do anything for Ponyboy's sake, but even he consented without too much fight. Mrs. Mathews took the shot for us, and Pony held on to that picture as if were a priceless masterpiece.

When Johnny and Dallas died, that photo went in a drawer and stayed there for months. He couldn't bear to look at it. Eventually, when the pain and deep sadness began to ease, the picture came out of hiding and returned to its spot on the wall. It had been there ever since, but now it was gone again. Only a piece of plaster stared back at me where that photo should have been. I started opening drawers and rifling around for it, but it wasn't here. Tears began to well up in my eyes. Finally, I went back to the living room and looked up at the corner where we had hung Soda's military photo – the one they sent to us of him in that fancy military uniform you get in basic training, with the American flag behind him. I stared at that frame for the longest time. It was empty too. In my heart and my gut, I knew what was wrong, but I didn't want to believe it.

I heard the door creak open but didn't turn around. I knew it was TwoBit. Steve was also in Vietnam, following Soda into battle as he had done so many times here on the streets of Tulsa.

"Darry, what's wrong?" He asked in a hushed, confused voice. He hadn't moved from the doorway, acutely aware something terrible had happened.

"He's gone, TwoBit. Ponyboy's gone again." I couldn't control my tears anymore, and my shoulders shook from the sobs that forced their way out. One brother off in a war against his will and another brother ...just...gone.... But why? Why!

"Anything happen with Ponyboy at school today?" I asked TwoBit when I could talk again

"No, same as usual. He walked home alone again, I stopped to get gas at the DX and got sidetracked by a pretty little blond number, or I'd have been here sooner." TwoBit started to smile, then looked at his feet, mumbling "Sorry Darry."

I called the school, most of the teachers had gone home, but Mr. Syme was still there. He wasn't Pony's teacher this year, but had been helpful with him in the past. "No, I'm sorry, Darry. I haven't seen Ponyboy since this morning as he was going to class. He seemed fine to me, albeit a little down. I heard Sodapop was away, I know how much you and Soda mean to him." I am sure he _did_ know, having assigned Pony to write a semester theme that year to get his grades up and pass his class. He knew practically everything about our family, much to my dismay. I hung up the phone and noticed the mail on the table.

Sifting through the various envelopes, nothing really stood out for him to have gotten upset about. Water bill, electric bill, advertisements....nothing unusual. My hands fell to the table, knocking some envelopes off. As I reached down to pick them up, I saw a brown scrap of paper. Obviously the corner of an envelope. When I turned it over and read the few words printed on it, my heart almost stopped beating. Those words made me weak and I could feel myself start to fall. I grabbed the chair next to me and pulled myself in it. Something mixed between a sob and a scream erupted from my throat and I shielded my face with my hands so TwoBit wouldn't see.

TwoBit started, taking a step toward me, then stopped. He had never seen me this way, I'd never let my guard down this much. Things had just gone from bad to worse as he eyed me with fear and concern. Picking up the corner of the envelope I had dropped, I turned it to him and read aloud the only words on it.

_**Department of the Army**_

It was a return address from one of those envelopes. The ones they leave at the doorstep when no one is home, after they come dressed in their nice uniforms and bring along a chaplain for comfort. Except no one had been here to get it except Ponyboy. It was a fear of mine, that, God forbid, should something happen to Soda that Ponyboy would be alone when he got the word. If Ponyboy had received the news first, there's no telling what he'd do. Except he _had_ gotten it first, and he was gone, taking what he could and leaving. It's the reaction I should have anticipated, the reaction that was most natural for him. To run. To get out.

I could tell by the confused look on TwoBit's face that he still didn't get it. He wasn't experienced in dealing with the way the Army notified families. Soda had written me not long after he got to Vietnam and told me about letters left in mailboxes.....letters no one wanted to get. I guess he tried to warn me, but now it was too late.

Realization hit TwoBit. "He can't be, Darry! He can't be gone!" His voice choked and his face turned red. "Not Soda! Oh Christ! Not Soda!" His knees were failing, and I went to him, pushing him gently into the chair behind him. I crouched down on my knees so my height was even with TwoBit sitting there, my arms wrapped around him and his around me. It was hitting me again, what had happened, and my heart was tearing itself open at the seams. Sobbing openly for a brother who was missing and another who was gone forever, we huddled close, we were all we had left of our gang.

XXX

Okay...how's that? I know, a lot of narration, but emotions have to be felt, not spoken. Besides, Darry was alone for most of this, wouldn't seem right for him to be talking to himself, now would it?

I am trying to keep this as close to reality as it was back in the time of Vietnam. Any questions, please ask.

Happy holidays!


	5. Chapter 5

Be warned...lots of cursing in this chapter.

My thanks to those who have left reviews...glad folks have finally gotten the flow of the story.

Chapter 5

To Save A Life

"Fucking Vietnam," I muttered under my breath. "Fucking recruiters, lying bastards." Reaching out from yet another screwed up chopper to get a different wrench, I took a drag off my cigarette. I kept thinking back to that day I joined up. I _told_ them, made it _**perfectly**_ clear I wanted to be with Soda or I wasn't joining.

"Not a problem, son, not a problem. Sign here!"

Those words reverberated in my skull every time I thought of it. He had a smug look on his face. I remember it every night when I lay on my hard cot and close my eyes, wishing I had that bastard in front of me. I'd smack that smug smile right off his face with as much force as I could.

Finding the other wrench, I rolled back under the helicopter and kept at my work. Didn't I fix this bird last week? They are all beginning to look the same now. I'd fix them up, getting them working just like they were fresh out of the factory and no sooner do the pilots fly them out do they come back (if they came back) riddled with bullet holes and engines smoking. Pisses me off. Where are those wires? Damn, I thought, where's Soda at when you need him? He and I could get this bird up and going before lunch.

I took another drag from my dying cigarette and thought about it. I know he's in country, but not where exactly. Darry had written me and told me he was a medic. It made me laugh when I first read about it, just as it does now, causing me to choke some on my weed. It was hard for me to picture him running around playing nursie to grown men.

Then again, I remember him always being there to comfort any of us when we got busted up bad in a fight, or every time Ponyboy got jumped walking by his lonesome. Hell, he had to be pulled away by force to come to work the week Ponyboy lay in bed half conscious after returning from Windrixville. Yeah, I thought sighing, I bet he's a good medic, a fucking great medic. I picked up the welding torch and tried to concentrate more on my work.

The pilots were good guys, even if they tended to wreck their birds too much. Not really their fault, though. I was thinking it over later at chow as I sat there trying to eat this...what is this slop anyway? Stew? I dunno. No one ever really knows what the cook's dreamed up, but like any other grunt, I'd figured out that if you poured enough hot sauce in it, anything is palatable. Sure miss Darry's cooking, I thought. I smiled again... hell, I even miss Soda's version of food. Ugh, too many thoughts rambling about in my brain!

"Hey, Randle!"

A voice from my right caused me to look up.

"Yes sir!" I stood up. It was LT, don't know his name, all the pilots were called LT, short for Lieutenant. I didn't have to stand, not really, we were in the mess tent and rules were more relaxed there, but I had found the more "respectful" I was to the officers, the better my life was in this shit hole. If the gang could see me now!

"You want to go up? I need a gunner. Half my squad's already out. What do you say?"

I already had my tray at the window before he could finish speaking. For weeks I had been dropping hints to go up, even though I knew it was extremely dangerous and - not to mention, _not my job_. Hell, those birds came back shot up and busted almost every time they went out, but something had been nagging in me to go. I had my helmet and rifle in hand as I loaded up. Excitement flooded me as the skids lifted off the ground.

"Where we goin'?" I called over.

"Thirty miles north. Two of our platoons had a skirmish with the enemy and took some casualties. We're transporting the wounded to the evac hospital."

"Is the LZ hot?" I hollered back. He just turned and looked at me over his shoulder scowling. Oops. Bad luck. Never, never never ask. Always _assume_ where you're going is unfriendly and be pleasantly surprised_ if_ you're wrong. LT shook his head at me in disgust and just kept pointing us north.

I looked out over the territory below us. Tree's, rice paddies and rough terrain. It must be hell down there. Seeing where I could have been stuck really made me appreciate the camp I was in. At least I had 3 hots and a cot, some of the men down there didn't get that much.

I felt the bird start to dip a little which brought me back to my senses. Out the door of the bird I could see the wounded men waiting for pick up. The medic was with them, looking oddly familiar, adjusting bandages and IVs. Then, a glint of sun reflecting off metal coming from a tree limb just out of their perimeter blinded me for a half a heartbeat. I saw the sniper in the tree pointing his weapon at our men below as the up wash from the rotors moved the leaves all around. Before I could act, I saw the spit of flame and knew he had fired his weapon. I unloaded my magazine in his direction, dropping the guy in the tree like I would a quail during hunting season back in Tulsa. Looking back at the medic, I saw him crumple on the ground, blood staining his uniform. I was horrified. We had landed and I jumped out of the bird, LT screaming his head off for me to get my ass back in and hold my position. Men were running by me loading the injured. Yep, it was a hot LZ.

Reaching him in two quick strides, I held him in my arms. Blood was trickling out from the bullet hole in his back, and I did my best to hold pressure on it.

"Soda! Soda, damn it, open your eyes! Don't do this! Open your eyes!"

Faintly, his eyes flickered open and he clasped his hand in mine. His grip was strong but I didn't know for how long it would stay that way. I hoisted him up and carried him to the chopper. LT was still screaming at me but I didn't care. As I was settling him in I felt a "ZZING" on my leg. We were in the air again headed to the medivac station when I looked down. Damn! Where's _this_ blood coming from? Holy shit, from me! I still didn't feel it, but I quickly used my belt as a tourniquet to staunch the flow. Then went back to holding onto Soda's back keeping the pressure on his wound.

"Come on buddy! Stay here!" He was failing, his grip beginning to weaken and I thought quickly. I knew he'd do anything if Ponyboy was involved, and I used it. "Stay here, for Ponyboy! You can't leave him, he needs you! Christ, we all need you! Don't you fucking do this, you got me?!" He faintly nodded and squeezed my hand. We stayed like that the whole way to the medivac hospital, me crouched over him, my one hand in his the other holding pressure on his back, my words in his ear commanding him to live.

XXX

Landing at the hospital, things happened so fast I couldn't keep up. Soda was taken in one direction and I was pulled in another.

"Damn it, let me stay with him!" I screamed at the medic's separating us.

"Sir, you're hurt! Your bleeding! You have to come with us." One of them shouted back.

Some little shit kept pushing me on a gurney and I kept hopping off after Soda. Finally some big guy got in my face.

"Your buddy has been taken to surgery. You can't follow him. When I know how he is I'll let you know. Now, before you bleed to death, get back on that gurney and stay there, Private Randle!"

I gave one last look in the direction that they took Soda off to, then resigned myself to my own gurney. I looked the big guy in the eye.

"He's as good as my brother. Don't let him die. No matter what, don't let him die." Suddenly I was tired, my adrenaline was wearing off. My leg began to hurt, bad. I started feeling floaty. I wasn't even aware that others were around me, that they had wheeled me behind a curtain in a room and was cutting off my uniform. Someone poked me with a needle, and soon I felt sleepy, disassociated with myself. I gave in to the feeling and drifted off.

XXX

"Randle? Hey Randle, wake up!" Someone was messing with me. I didn't like anyone messing with me when I wanted to sleep, unless it was Evie.... My mouth was dry, like cotton. A sudden sour taste flooded my mouth, oh no, my stomach.....

Bleahhh......over the side of the bed it went.

"Okay, I'm awake, now who the fuck are you?" I asked, opening my eyes. Oops. It's LT. I had to have turned a dozen shades of white before I could get the word "Sir" out of my mouth. He just grinned and looked at his boots where I had just unloaded what ever was in my stomach on his feet.

"Oh...God, sir....LT....I am so sorry." I'm going straight to Leavenworth, I know it.

He was laughing at me, not loudly, but enough to know he wasn't sending me to the brig for puking on him.

"You owe me new boots, Randle. How ya feeling?"

"Been better." I paused then shot up. "Sir, the guy... the medic who was shot.... Soda Curtis.... any word?" I wasn't giving him time to answer, I was pulling the sheets off me to get out of the hospital bed when he pushed me back down.

"Whoa, Randle. Calm it, son. He's in recovery. I take it he's a buddy of yours?"

"Yeah. He's the reason I'm here." I said sarcastically. "Sir, how is he?"

"They only told me he was in recovery."

That wasn't good enough for me, I started fumbling with the sheets again.

"Whoa! Private, lay back down or I'll put you on report!" His voice had an edge of seriousness to it.

I was fighting to get up again. LT was a strong man but Darry was bigger. I could take him, but I didn't want trouble with the officers. Then the big guy showed back up.

"Private, lay down." Okay, I thought, ain't got to get huffy about it.

LT shook his head at me and stood up. "Randle, next time I'm here, I'll stop in to see you. Do us all a favor, get better, then when you get back, stay _under_ the birds, not_ in_ them." He smiled and walked off.

My attention shifted to the big guy again. Hell, he was huge, with a very deep voice. He could probably scare the sun into setting early if he wanted to.

"How's Soda.... Soda Curtis?"

"Your friend is out of surgery and in recovery. He was hit in the back, bullet did some damage to his kidney, but they managed to save it and he should recover. No guarantees though. He'll get shipped out stateside when he's stable enough, hopefully in a few days provided there aren't any complications. You'll probably be on the same transport. Congratulations," he said dryly "you're going home."

That's when it hit me. I was going home too. I looked up at him, concerned for myself for once. How bad was I hurt? I looked under my sheets... yep, both legs accounted for although one was heavily bandaged, 10 toes, one massively important package intact in the middle, it all seemed there.... I looked at the big guy again, confused.

He was smiling at me. I guess this is a typical reaction he'd seen before.

"Hit your artery in your lower thigh, had to graft one in you. You should be up and walking in a few days. Now, you stay put, you hear me?" I nodded my head.

"You know," he said almost as an afterthought, "You probably saved his life. He lost a lot of blood, would have bled out if you hadn't held pressure on it. That chopper pilot told us what you did. He's putting you in for a medal of some sort, but don't hold your breath for it. Around here, we see hero's everyday, but the only medals I've seen are purple hearts." He paused a moment.

I thought about it, I'm no hero. My buddy needed me and I was there. I remembered Pony's reaction when I told him he was a hero when he saved those kids. Now I understood when he said he wasn't a hero, just a guy who wanted to help.

"You need anything?" The big guy asked.

"Can I use the phone?" I had to call them, the guys. I had to let them know about Soda.

"No, sorry, the lines are down. When they get working again you can. Stay _here!" _He emphasized the "here" and pointed at my bed. I pulled my covers up to my chin to show compliance, and he walked away.

Okay, Soda, I found you. Hang on, buddy, hang on.

XX

Terms...

Rotors – the blades on top of the helicopter that rotate, helping to cause lift.

Skids – the landing gear that used to be on helicopters before they had wheels.

Up wash – the force of the wind blowing everything around as a helicopter takes off or lands.

3 hots and a cot – 3 hot meals and a cot to sleep in

brig – military jail

These are my definitions, not Websters.

_**Please leave reviews**_.


	6. Chapter 6

Many thanks to those who are reading and **leaving reviews** for my little saga.

Just a reminder, I don't own The Outsiders, but Susan sure started a great thing...don't you agree?

Chapter 6

A Destination

It was like de'ja' vu, hopping that train, climbing in and not getting caught. Sent shivers down my spine. I almost expected to see Johnny next to me. I looked over – the temptation to look was too great, but of course he wasn't there. Nope, just me alone in this boxcar. The train picked up speed and I settled down.

Being alone with only my thoughts left me nothing to do but think. I didn't want to think, an emptiness weighed heavy in my chest. I could feel each beat of my heart, pounding within me. I was so alone, and the solitude overwhelmed me. Soda had always been there...if not in person, than he had written. There was always a connection between us. He had sent me a letter via Dally when Johnny and I were away, and had written to me at home from Vietnam. Now there were no more letters. He was gone, gone for good. Tears fell. I didn't want to think anymore. Night had fallen and the stars were out. The motion of the boxcar rolling on the track lulled me like a baby to sleep.

XXX

I don't know how long I slept, but the shrill whistle of the train snapped me back to attention. Sunlight came pouring in the open boxcar door burning my eyes. Carefully I crawled to the opening. The train was slowing, I could see a depot ahead. Grabbing my bag, I jumped for it, landing on the hard dry dusty ground. I wasn't sure where I was, but this place was flat, hot and dry. There were no trees either, but a cactus grew here and there along the way. Getting up, I slung my bag over my shoulder and started down the nearby road.

I had a lot of time ahead of me again. Thinking was going to hurt some more. My imagination was always something that got the better of me, and my current set of circumstances wasn't going to help. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, even if my mind was racing back to home.

I hadn't left a note, and I'm sure Darry still hasn't figured it out yet. He never did "get" me, although since Soda left there really wasn't much left of me to "get". I haven't been myself in so long, I'd forgotten how to be myself again. I didn't know who I was, as so much had changed.

I readjusted my bag and wiped my brow. That sun sure was beating down and I was hot. But one step at a time, I kept on going.

Looking off in the hazy distance, I thought about you. I miss you, Soda. I know it wasn't your fault. They made you leave, made you go to Vietnam. It wasn't your choice. I wondered _how_ it happened, if you suffered like Johnny or was it quick like Dally? Were you alone or with others, like Mom and Dad. Did you even have time to think of us, or were you thinking of someone else. My vision blurred as tears fell. I didn't care, I was out here alone on this dusty stretch of some foreign road. No one would see me cry or hear me sobbing. I was thankful for that isolation.

I don't know how long I walked, but the sun had moved over quite a bit when I saw the little restaurant in the distance. My pace quickened as I realized how long I had gone without a drop of water in this dry landscape.

Pulling the door open, a clanky cow bell above me signaled my entrance. Looking around, this place was definitely a dive.

It had the air of a place that perhaps 10 years ago it was where everyone ate and hung out at. Time however was not its friend. Now it just looked as I felt, tired and worn.

"Come on in, honey, sit where ever you like!" A cheery voice came from somewhere behind the kitchen door.

As I settled in a booth, a woman appeared, handing me a menu.

"Heavens, honey! You looked whipped! Here, drink this before you fall out on me." She handed me a tall glass of water filled to the brim with ice. I did as told, whew! It was cold! My lips had been parched and my mouth so dry it hurt to talk. The cold water had woken me up. I suppose my expression was improved, she smiled down at me.

"So, what'll ya have?"

"Pancakes, please, if you have them. With a side of crispy bacon, if possible."

She didn't bother to write it down, just nodded, still smiling and walked to the back, calling my order to some unseen cook. Returning to my table, I looked up as she started to talk to me again.

"Where ya from?"

"Oklahoma. Mind telling me where I'm at?"

She laughed at me, a huge grin still on her face. Does she ever not smile, I wondered.

"Honey, you're a long way from home. This is Nevada, and about 10 more miles up this road, you'll find Las Vegas. What brings you all the way out here?"

"My brother, " I said softly, looking down playing with a straw wrapper. I left it at that, and even though I could tell she wanted more information, I wasn't going to tell her. I started to fiddle with the napkins next, and she took the hint. She left me alone and returned to the counter. When the food was ready, she brought it out and sat in down in front of me, looking at me a little more intensely and with a more genuine smile.

"Let me know if you need anything else, hon" she said softly, then she walked away.

I ate in piece. No other patrons were here and the waitress and cook kept their distance. Finally with my stomach happier and a little rest, I could think. Las Vegas should be a good place to get a fake ID. Two-Bit was able to do anything with the one he had, when he was younger and needed it. Now that he was 21 and didn't need it, he hardly did anything that the ID was needed for. Oh, he still drank, but no where near the amount he did two years ago. We had all changed in one way or another since that time.

Two-Bit finally graduated, took him near long enough. He was 21 – the last possible year the school board would allow anyone to get their diploma without having to go to the local college to get their GED. I think if it were up to him, he'd stay in school until age 60, then retire! We were so happy he _finally_ got that paper. Now both he and Steve were graduates, Steve having graduated the year before Two-Bit.

After school, Two-Bit started working as an auto shop parts delivery driver. He went all over town in the company truck then hung out at the DX on company time. Only he could pull that scam!

Steve went full time with Soda at the DX. Things were good for the gang for a while, then Soda's draft letter arrived four months ago. He was sent to Boot Camp first then flown over there, and then Steve volunteered to go too.

I quit smoking last year. Didn't quit because of track either, despite what Darry thought. I just … quit. Lost interest in it. Was amazed, but even the nicotine addiction didn't hurt much. I threw up a few times and sweated it out, but told Darry that I had the stomach flu. Don't really know if he bought it, but he didn't ask either. The gang just sort of figured it out and stopped offering me smokes when they lit up.

I finished eating and started shuffling through my bag for the money to pay my bill when I felt a shadow over me. I looked up, it was the waitress.

"Don't worry about it, hon. On the house. Here..." She handed me a piece of paper. "If you ever need help or a place to stay, call me. No questions asked."

"Why...?" I started to ask.

"Because..." she said, cutting me off, "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas." She picked up my plates and glass, and with a twinkle in her eye, turned and went back to the kitchen.

"Thank you!" I called after her as I walked back out out into the dusty dry landscape. Feeling better, I headed out up the road toward Las Vegas.

XXX

Okay, I know, the line about What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas is current, but I couldn't help myself.

Please, folks...leave reviews. It means so much to me. I've got this written out many chapters ahead of this point, and I am just antsy to write the whole thing...but I want it right, so will take my time.

What do you think of the work so far?

Merry Christmas to you, and thank a soldier/sailor/airman or marine if you can.

OooRah!


	7. Chapter 7

First.... my apologies. I hadn't realized the distance it was from Tulsa to Las Vegas, when I posted the chapter of him riding the train and now realize that there wasn't any way, unless Pony had slept about 17 hours straight, for that to have happened. So, for all you who are sitting there shaking your head at me, I am sorry. Just, kinda let it go, if you can. I meant for him to be out for about 8 or 9 hours, sleeping in the train. But, I need him to go to Vegas, it's for later chapters in the story.

Second.... thanks to all the reviewers. It gives me goose bumps to know there are folks out in the world who like what I have written. It's like a present I have so long waited for. Had a miserable childhood, what can I say.

Okay, for all those who want the Curtis family back together...patience is a virtue. It may or may not happen. Just stay tuned!

Chapter 7

Windrixville

Two-Bit and I stayed huddled on my floor for the longest time. I hadn't seen him cry in ages, and not this hard either. I couldn't have been much better, but the years of always being in control finally took over and I bottled it up, doing exactly what I had told Soda not to do.

I called the military base the next day, asking them to check on Soda's status. Since I had looked all over and couldn't find the letter that went with the scrap of envelope I had found, I assumed Ponyboy kept it. I needed to know what was in the envelope that was sent. I prayed it wasn't the most obvious thing, but didn't get my hopes up. My fingers tapped on the table as I waited, getting passed from person to person up and down their chain of command. It amazed me how they had no problem finding him here to draft into the Army, but getting a simple update on his condition was nearly impossible.

Finally I spoke with a chaplain, who confirmed the bad news. Yes, according to their information, Soda had been killed days ago. His unit had been over run and there were several casualties. The chaplain faltered a moment, as if he didn't want to tell me the rest.

"Tell me everything you can, no matter how bad it is." I insisted. I had already buried my parents' mangled bodies. This couldn't be worse. I was wrong.

"His disposition is still pending, Mr Curtis, there is some confusion as to where his body is being kept." Okay, I wasn't expecting _that_. They _lost_ his body too! At this point in the conversation, I couldn't hold it together any longer and I had to hang up. They'd send his body home eventually, when ever they found him, and I'd have to do this whole crying thing over again. Damn, why is life so hard?

I went out for a drive that night, and found myself at the cemetery. I slowly approached mom and dad's graves, like a child who had done something wrong and was caught at it. Looking at their headstone was like looking in their eyes again. It hurt so bad to whisper to them that I'd failed, that one of their babies was coming to them. Then I thought better of it realizing Soda was already with them, I was behind the times. That only made me feel worse. It was just me and Ponyboy left. I had to find him, no matter where he went, I had to find him. Soda's body was alone, lost in an enemy country. I couldn't let Ponyboy be alone here, on our own soil. Finding Ponyboy began to fill my thoughts.

Days went by with no leads. Two-Bit and I had canvassed all of Tulsa, the old hang outs and called up people we hadn't spoken to in two years. Finally my last hope was returning to the place he had fled to before. None of us had been there, and it wasn't easy to get to either. But this was Ponyboy and we were out of ideas.

Getting there took almost four hours. I drove while Two-Bit read the map. I thought back to when Ponyboy was gone the last time, and had to grin. Dallas sure had them hidden well. There was nothing out here but farm land and country. No wonder we never found them before. Finally, the road up Jay Mountain was in front of us, and I put it in second gear to climb the steep hillside to the top.

Parking the truck, we got out in front of a caved in, burned up shell of a building. It had been two years since the fire, and time and weather had its effect. We looked around calling out his name in the wooded areas surrounding the wreckage, hearing it echo off in the distance.

It was eerie standing there, knowing this, _this_ is where he had hidden before. It was so barren, so cold to me. I walked around and found the pump Pony and Johnny got water from. It still had its prime, and the liquid erupted from its spout, rusty at first then clearing after a minute. I tasted the water, it was cold and wet, with an awful rusty metallic aftertaste. I stood still and closed my eyes, trying to picture them here, running around, reading that book and waiting for someone to come get them. I opened my eyes and looked out over the fields wondering if he was waiting again for me to come find him. I would, Pony, I'd come get you in a heartbeat, but damn it, tell me _where_ to look.

Two-Bit and I were there for roughly an hour, sifting under the rubble of the building and searching the woods, but there was no sign of him having returned here. The sun was setting into an amazing sunset of brilliant reds and deep oranges as I called his name out one last time, the echo of it burning a hole in my heart. I had lost mom and dad, Johnny and Dally, Soda, possibly Steve and now Ponyboy. I had failed them all. I handed Two-Bit my keys and got in the passenger seat of my truck.

"Just take us home, Two-Bit. Just take us home." Tears fell down my face as he put it in gear and headed back down the mountain.

He put his hand on my shoulder and I took it, squeezing it. He was my friend, probably the last one I'd ever be this close to, who knew my past, our family secrets. Someone who I'd bled with and cried with. Someone who had been there for our tragedies and our triumphs. Someone who not only knew our pain but shared it too. I closed my eyes and tried to rest, letting Two-Bit be the strong one for once. I was too tired to be strong anymore.

XXX

Your reviews would be greatly appreciated. Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah to all!

God bless those serving in our armed forces. Come home safe and sound, you are not forgotten!

May piece / peace be with you! ;) Hey Samaryley! Thanks for catching my goof! Just one of many, I am sure!


	8. Chapter 8

(gives a coy grin to the screen, "I know something you don't know...tee hee hee!)

Disclaimer, I don't own anything from _The Outsiders. _

Chapter 8

An Awakening

Wow, lights everywhere! Darry would flip if he saw how much electricity was being used up in this place! And to think he would holler like a banshee if we left the bathroom light on after we were done using it! I shook my head and looked at the fake ID this guy made for me. I remembered all the details Two-Bit had said were important in a good, fake ID, because those that look _too _goodwere an immediate tip off to the cops. I wasn't looking for trouble, just needed help in the aging department. The ID looked tough enough, I hoped. Suddenly I was 18. An hour earlier I was 16. I tried for 21 but the guy just laughed.

"No way in hell your baby face would pass for 21!"

Oh well, I wasn't looking for booze anyway. Never did acquire a taste for that stuff, always tasted bitter and would make me sick, no matter how little it was I had tried. Forget about me getting a buzz, all I ever got was gut wrenching sick. Two-Bit used to laugh at me when he'd slip it to me without my knowing it. Said he was trying to up my endurance. The few occasions Darry'd found out he'd popped Two-Bit a good one, lectured me about it, then grounded me, and I had never even asked for it in the first place! Eventually I learned not to accept beverages from him unless they were still sealed.

I made my way up the strip looking around at everything. The place was crawling with people. I decided on some little spot that had slot machines, poker tables and roulette wheels. The bouncer stopped me at the door, wanting my ID. He looked at me, then the ID, then back at me again. He stared at it a long while, and I was beginning to get nervous, but I kept it inside. Eventually he gave it back and returned to his newspaper. I guess that ID was better than I thought.

I knew enough about poker from playing with the guys to know NOT to go to the poker tables. I didn't mind so much losing to the gang...even to Steve, but this wasn't the same caliber. Even I was smart enough for that. The idea of guessing where a little ball would land also sounded a little iffy to me. So, I settled in at a slots machine and started feeding it my money. It gets addictive, put in your coins, pull the lever and watch the little pieces of fruit spin hoping to match up three in a row. I'd forgotten how long I was there, but was shocked when my last few dollars was in my hand.

Knowing what little was left of the money I'd saved wasn't enough to do anything with, I put one more dollar in the machine, hit the "double or nothing" button and let the lever fly. I wasn't even waiting for it to stop, climbing down from my chair when suddenly the machine started coming alive! An alarm sounded and lights were flashing. I looked around expecting the cops to show, but instead money and tokens started pouring out from the machine as if there were no tomorrow. I'd won!

I scooped up everything and took it to some chick at a window with bars on it, thinking she looked like she was in her own little jail cell.

"What are these??" I asked, holding up the tokens. Her look made me uneasy. She stared at me as if I were a jackass.

"What, never played before? Those are worth $500 each. Hand them here and I'll cut you a check or give it in cash. Hand me your ID...what do you want? Cash or a check?"

Fumbling for my ID, I almost pee'd myself. There were over a thousand of those tokens. "Um, a little of both, please." I said, stumbling as I found the ID and handed it to her. I was wondering if she'd catch on that the ID was fake, and I doubted I'd breathed any until she handed it back with over $250,000 in cash and a check for the same amount.

"Congratulations," she said in a board voice.

"Thanks!" I replied.

Getting out of there I now had 2 bags on my shoulder, and enough common sense to know to get off the street. Greasers didn't walk down the street with over $20 on us or we'd get jumped for it, and here I was with an_** insane**_ amount of cash walking down what had to be the busiest street in America.

I found a hotel near by, checked in and once I found my room, dumped it all on my bed. Good Lord! That's a lot of dough! I ordered a hamburger from room service and just kept staring at the money. Now what? An hour later, it came to me. I found some stationary and a pen in drawer, and thought about how to say what was on my mind. Finally, forming my thoughts into words, I wrote it down.

_Dear Darry, I'm sorry I had to leave. It's nothing you did or didn't do. You have done everything for me and I've never really shown you how much I appreciated your sacrifice. I know you've sacrificed everything for us too. I'm ashamed I didn't see it sooner. Soda's gone, killed in action... they sent a letter but I kept it with me, by now I am sure they have contacted you. I can't be there any more. The pain is too much, it's grief I just can't take. I'm sorry I'll miss his funeral, but I am sure you'll lay him down next to momma and daddy. Their funeral was hard enough, I'd never make it through Sodapop's. This world's not right without him in it. _

_Anyway, I've come into a bit of money and I'm sending you some. No, I didn't rob a bank or steal it, honest. It's just to repay you for all the things you gave up for us... for me. For all the sacrifices you made. Now that Soda's gone and I'm not in your way anymore, you can go to school and be whatever you want. This money should be enough to pay off everything and leave you plenty to spare, so you will have a few years to live without the need of working, maybe relax a bit. God knows you deserve it. I love you, I always, always have. Even when I couldn't say it, I've always felt it. Thank you for everything, for trying so hard. Say Hi to Two-Bit for me._

_Love,_

_Your brother,_

_Ponyboy _

I took the money and $50,000 and put it in an envelope I found in the same drawer with the stationary, addressed and sealed it, then put it away in my bag. I loaded the rest of the money up in my bag and went to sleep.

I stayed in that room for a few days, restless. Days turned into nights and back to days again. I was afraid to go out, afraid someone would realize I was a kid, afraid someone was going to take the money away from me. Mostly I think, now, I was afraid of myself, and of what I was feeling. I was afraid of_ feeling_, because pouring my heart into that letter for Darry made me realize how much I missed Soda, how much he meant to me, and how much Darry means to me still. But it was time for Darry to have his turn. Hell, he was supposed to have his turn first, and now that I had the ability to give him back that turn, I wasn't going to take it away from him. Not again.

Dawn arrived, streaming golden rays of sunshine all over my room. As I opened my eyes to the sudden brightness, I thought the same thing as I had every morning since I left, that maybe this had all been a strange and awful dream. As I cleared the sleep from my eyes I saw my bag sitting on the table just as it had for a few days now, in this small hotel room, and I remembered, again, that Soda was gone. It flooded over me as before, this roller coaster of emotion I was on. The letter, the train ride, the desert, winning the money, camping out in this room and writing to Darry. It was so much. I shook my head, trying to clear it, then went over to my bag to get fresh clothes out.

I'd been wearing the same stuff for days, and it felt like I was peeling part of my soul off as I stripped down to bare, raw flesh. As the steam filled the bathroom, I let the hot water bead up on my skin, and roll off my body. I stood there, naked, under that stream of hot water for what seemed like an eternity before my mind cleared and I could see ahead of me again. I knew now what I wanted to do and was anxious to get to it. I finished showering, dried off and got dressed. I left the hair grease behind, I wouldn't need it anymore.

I checked out of the hotel and hailed a cab, having it return me to that dusty little diner, ten miles out of town.

"Hey honey!" A familiar voice called over to me. "Say!, you look better this morning! Sit where you like, it's all open. Going back to Oklahoma?"

"No, thought I'd go up north for a bit. Pancakes again, bacon too, please, but only if it's crispy." She smiled and called the order back. I ate my breakfast alone then got up to pay my bill. I'd always wanted to do this, but it had never been possible before. I handed her a fifty dollar bill and told her to keep the change. Her face was one of shock, then she smiled again, and pulled me into a surprising hug.

"You take care, honey." She called after me as the door closed behind me. Getting into the backseat of a cab, I headed for the train station. This time I _bought_ my ticket, one way, north, as far as the train would go.

"That would be … um... Wolf Creek, Montana. Sound okay?" Said the ticket lady at the station.

"Yes, that's fine..." I paid her the money and waited for the train. While I was waiting, I spotted a Post Office next door and walked over. It was empty except for the clerk.

"Excuse me, I need to mail this." I held up the hotel envelope. It was looking pretty rough already. The clerk looked at it and whistled low, turned around, started sifting in a drawer then pulled out a bigger, thicker one.

"That will never make it out of the city, let alone," he bent over, squinting at my scrawl, "Tulsa, Oklahoma. Here, use this one." He had addressed the second envelope for me before I had a chance to say anything. This one was better, had that padding in it to prevent tears. I shoved the original envelope into the second one, sealed it and paid for the postage. It was on it's way. Darry would be okay now, I thought and smiled. I heard the train whistle behind me, thanked the man and ran back over to the station and got ready to board. I didn't know what was ahead of me, but it was already looking better than my past.

XXX

Reviews!

Merry Christmas!

Happy Hanukkah!

Thank you to our troops serving to keep us all safe. I've been there, far from home away from anyone close at this time of year. Trust me, you do feel forgotten when you're so far from home.


	9. Chapter 9

My Christmas gift to you...Soda lives. Enjoy!

Chapter 9

Survival

Oh shit! I hurt. Things were hazy. I could hear people buzzing by me and could vaguely feel people doing stuff to me, but my body didn't cooperate. I wanted to open my eyes but they remained closed. I wanted to speak but my tongue remained silent. The only constant was the steady _beep beep_ of the heart monitor. I guess that meant I was alive. Good. I didn't want to die. Someone told me Ponyboy needed me, I had to stay alive for him. Okay, I will, but I'm gonna sleep now. I'm so tired. But I'll wake up later. I promise.

XXX

"Nughnm" I managed to mumble. It wasn't a word, more of a grunting sound. The lights were bright, too bright. It blinded me. I tried to lift my hand to shield them from that damned light, but I was a rag doll, too weak to move with any purpose. I lay here like a limp noodle.

I began to feel someone holding my hand and I tried to look over, but the effort was too great. Instead, I tried to squeeze the hand holding mine. Pony? Darry? I wasn't sure who it was, but they held me and I felt safe. I was grateful.

XXX

"Turn off that fucking light!" I said. I thought I'd yelled it, but it came out as a whisper.

"Soda! Thank God! Hey buddy, it's me. You're gonna be okay. You've been hit, but you're gonna make it. Rough couple of days here for you, but I knew you'd pull through."

I tried to open my eyes, but that damn light was too bright. "Light. Off. Now." Forming a solid sentence again was too much work. The hand holding mine pulled away from me and then a few seconds later the room began to darken. Thank you. Whom ever you are. Thank you.

After the darkness descended, my hand was picked up again.

"Soda, open your eyes, buddy. Come on, open 'em up." He sounded so familiar. He was commanding me if not outright begging me to open them. I tried, my lids were so heavy, but it was dark in the room so it didn't hurt as much.

Slowly things came into focus. I saw IV bags floating above me like weird balloons, an ugly faded yellow clock on the wall and then in front of me, someone who I never thought I'd ever gaze upon in this world again. My best buddy, my life long friend.

"Steve?"

He grinned ear to ear and gripped my hand tighter. "Hey Soda. Damn, buddy, I thought we told you to be careful!"

"Where did you come from?" I wanted to wake up more, but a groggy feeling kept pulling me down.

"Saw you get hit when we flew in to get your wounded out. I grabbed you and we took off."

I'm not sure, the groggy feeling was pulling me under again, but I thought I saw tears slide down his cheeks. I closed my eyes. I'd ask him about it later.

XXX

Oh fucking shit! I hurt. Everywhere. Worse than when those soc's got me in that alley a few years ago with those damn brass knuckles. Who got me this time? I opened my eyes. "What the...!"

Steve was asleep next to my bed, but when I spoke a second ago, his head jerked back up. Man, he looked awful. Several days worth of stubble covered his chin and his eyes bore exhaustion in them. But, he was smiling. He reached over and touched my forehead.

"Good, feels like your fever broke, finally. How ya feeling, buddy?"

"Steve, what happened?"

He shook his head. "You got hit, man. In the back. Almost lost your kidney, but the doc thinks he saved it."

I started taking stock of my situation. Aside from every possible part of my body hurting, I had wires on my chest, IV's in my arms, oxygen up my nose, bandages covering various parts of my lower torso and looking under the sheets, I could tell I had a catheter stuck up my you-know-what. Damn, I was fucked up.

"How long was I out for?"

"You were hit on the third. Today is the sixth. You were hit by some low life VC sniper perched high in a tree out of your perimeter. I took care of him, but not before he fired his weapon. Your surgery was risky, bastard got close to your kidney, but doc thinks he repaired it enough so you won't lose it. That's what this is for," he lifted my Foley bag, about one forth the way filled with a pale yellow liquid. Urine. I was happy to see it wasn't tea colored, the sure sign of trouble in an injured kidney.

Then I almost slapped myself. I keep forgetting, I'm supposed to be a mechanic, not a medic, but being here has taught me so much about medicine. I was smiling at Steve, which annoyed him immensely.

"What's so damn funny?"

"Oh, Stevie boy, are we gonna have some wild stories for the chicks back home!" Then an idea occurred to me.

"Have you called them yet? Told them I was okay?"

Steve shuffled his feet and looked down. "No, phone lines were out early on the third, they still ain't got them up yet."

"Oh shit, Steve!" My emotions had done a complete turn around. "I gotta tell them I'm okay!" Steve got up from his chair and put his hands on my chest, pushing me back against my pillow.

"Buddy! Calm down!. No letters or lines in or out. I've tried already. As soon as I can, I'll get word out. You gotta hold still. You ain't in any condition to be getting so worked up! Look at me..... Soda! Look at me!"

The urgency in his voice caught my attention. I locked eyes with him as he held firmly to my shoulders.

"You gotta be still before you hurt yourself worse. I need you to do this. Ponyboy and Darry _need_ you to get better. Whatever else happens, we're _out _of this war and going home. _Together_! I _promise_ you, I will get word out to Darry and Pony that you're okay!" He released my arms as a tear fell from my eyes. He brushed it away for me, his gaze still locked with mine. "_I promise you_. Now rest. That's an order!" He tried to smile, but I beat him to it.

"You don't out rank me, man" I said yawning.

"No, buddy, we're equals."

I closed my eyes and drifted off again. Steve stayed at my side, watching over me, parked in a chair and holding my hand like he had been doing for days now. It felt so close to home.

XXX

Be safe, everyone. No drinking and driving. Give your families a big hug. Remember those serving so far from us, keeping us safe. Happy Holidays to all.

Trish (Calla Lilly Rose)

Please leave reviews. I am so happy to have folks putting this story in their favorites box, but would love to hear what you think of the story too!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own anything The Outsiders related. Nope, I don't make even a penny off anything I write. But I do get a lot of joy from it!

Chapter 10

The Call

They kept wanting to ship me stateside ahead of Soda, but I kept finding one reason or another to get off that transport roster. I'd come up with anything – my leg was numb, my stitches were pulled, whatever would work. I was determined to take that ride out with Soda at my side. Now that I found him, I wasn't letting go. If I had to buy my own ticket to ride out instead of letting Uncle Sam pay for it, I would.

My own injury was getting better. I could get around with only a cane, and as much as I hated using it, I did. My doc told me the cane would be necessary for a few weeks, in addition to the artery getting hit, some muscle was compromised. In time I would have full use of it with nothing but a nasty scar on my leg to remind me, but I am pretty sure I wouldn't forget my lovely time here in Vietnam.

I had been told that after returning stateside I would be checked over again, then would be receiving a medical discharge from service. That was fine by me. There are people who are cut out for this kind of life, the danger, the uncertainty, moving every few years of your life, and all for the simple cause of freedom and liberty. After being here I have developed a new respect for them. They aren't all high school drop outs or screw ups. They are a mix of all types. The well educated and the well intentioned. It just wasn't why _**I**_joined. I came to stay with Soda, and didn't find him until the end. I was glad to be getting out, but I now respected those who were in in a way I never thought possible.

Something was up with Soda's paperwork, but they wouldn't let me in on it. Hell, to them I was a lowly PFC grunt, not even related to Soda. They wouldn't understand that my bond to him was tighter than blood. Only Darry and Ponyboy could give a legitimate argument to that case.

Finally, _FINALLY _I got a phone line out. It only took five more days to get it. I wanted to curse but was too busy dialing Darry's phone number. I didn't count the time difference, hoping it wasn't too early or late for them. Would anyone even be home? Pony might be at school getting yet another perfect score on some test with that darn brain of his, and Darry might be at work. Somewhere after the forth ring, the phone was answered. I was glad to hear anyone's voice. Someone from home!

"Pony? That you?" Darry's voice was rough.

"Hell, no, Darry! It's me, Steve!" I nearly shouted. "Damn, it's good to hear your voice. How ya been?" I was smiling ear to ear, couldn't help it. I would have been smiling even if Pony had answered the phone, any voice from home was welcome and sorely missed.

"Steve..." Darry started, then stopped. The way he said my name was dark and foreboding. I didn't like it, something was wrong.

"Darry? What's wrong? I can hear it in your voice." My smile faded instantly.

"Steve.. um... listen. This is gonna be hard for you, but Soda... Soda's....." His voice trailed off as his emotions hit. What the hell? Darry? Upset?

"Hey, Darry, listen...I ain't got a lot of time, but Soda got hurt, shot pretty bad, but he's doing fine now. He's here with me at the hospital. I took one in the leg, too, but it's just a scratch, really." Well, that's a lie, but best not to worry him now.

"He's alive?" Darry cut me off. I stared at the phone a second.

"Yeah, man, of course he is. I was just in his room talking with him about getting out of here. Phone cord wont reach or I'd let you talk to him....hey, are you bawling?" What the fuck was going on back home?

"He's alive. You're not just yanking my chain? He's flesh and blood alive?"

Darry was almost screaming at me. I didn't like this.

"Steve, answer me!"

"Yeah, Darry. He's alive. I swear. Why?" What the hell had happened?

"They told us he was killed in action."

Holy shit, no wonder! A tiny amount of panic went off in me. I hadn't expected the Army to screw up this bad. No wonder they had problems with his paperwork for home. Shipping home a live person in a casket was probably not in the regulations.

"Darry, on a stack of Bibles placed over your parents graves, I SWEAR Soda is alive."

The operator cut in. "One minute remaining." Bitch.

"No, Darry listen. He's with me, and we're both coming home together, alive, I swear. I'll let you know more when I can. Darry, tell Ponyboy..."

Click. The line went dead. "Shit," I muttered as I slammed the receiver down. I turned and went back to Soda's room.

His eyes were closed, sleeping again, finally. I sat in my chair and held his hand again. It's what I had been doing for the last week. Even the medical staff knew that if they wanted to find me to give me medicine or check my leg, they needed to come here. As far as I was concerned, this was my room, too. This is what I had been doing for the last week, keeping an eye on Soda and not leaving him alone, holding his hand.

My thoughts raced back to Tulsa, I couldn't imagine the torture they were going through back home, remembering the agony everyone experienced when Ponyboy and Johnny disappeared that week two years ago. Back then, we didn't know where they were but were relatively confident they were okay. We all had suspicions that Dally had hidden them, he just acted too cool to not have known. Johnny was Dally's pet, and for Johnny to be gone and Dally to have been cool about it was enough for me to know Dally was in on it. But the pain of missing Ponyboy and not knowing if he was injured, cold or hungry was almost too much for Darry and Soda. Without that kid, they hurt, and hurt bad. He was a part of them that they couldn't replace. Now they had been told Soda was dead, and I am sure they were experiencing the same hideous agony they've already had to live through once before. I hoped Two-Bit was keeping them strong.

Christ, everyone back home had been living for two weeks believing Soda was _dead_, not just missing like Ponyboy and Johnny had been. This was even worse. I could hear the agony in Darry's voice before I told him Soda was okay. I wonder how the kid was doing, concerned for him for a rare moment in time. Soda and Pony had a bond tighter than glue, which is one reason why I was bothered by the kid so much. He just wouldn't take the hint that even though Soda asked him to join us, saying "no" once in a while was the right answer too.

I couldn't tell Soda what I had found out. He was still too unstable still for that type of shock. I'd hold off until I had no choice. I took a firm grip on his hand, looking at his sleeping face.

"It's going to be okay, Soda, you're going to be fine." I whispered.

The corners of his lips flexed into a faint smile, then settled back again. I hope it will, anyway, I thought.

XXX

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	11. Chapter 11

Thank you to all those who sent reviews.

Chapter 11

Two-Bit's Help

It felt weird going to the Curtis's house now. Darry was the only one there, and he was usually gone all day anyway. He was becoming an old man too soon. His parents deaths put responsibility on him that no one his age should have to bear, but he did it, without hesitation or regret. Fought for it, even, every time social services made hints to change things. Years spent roofing houses in the full sun had tanned his skin to a permanent almost brown shade, worry over his brothers had put lines in his face that nothing would get rid of. Seeing Ponyboy get hurt time and again almost did him in but it wasn't until Soda got drafted did we start to see the chinks in his armor appear.

Then, almost two weeks ago, I walked in their house to see Darry staring at that empty frame on the wall, his muscled shoulders shaking from the sobs he didn't want to let out. I knew something had happened, but couldn't fathom what. I asked him what was wrong, terrified of his answer.

"Pony's gone again."

Okay, we'll find him, I thought. It _still_ didn't make sense that Darry would be this upset. After all, maybe Pony's at the library, or the gym, or a hundred other places he would wander off to in order to be alone, read or draw. It was all he did anymore, besides his blasted homework, since Soda was drafted. He'd be home soon, I thought.

Darry had called the school, but they hadn't seen him. Then Darry turned to the mail. He found some scrap from an envelope and acted like he had been shot. Before I could move, Darry had sort of screamed and collapsed in a chair. I didn't know what to do. Go to him, leave the house, stand there like a bump on a log? Dealing with Darry breaking like this was uncharted territory, not just for me but for _anyone_. He was always the strongest one of us.

Darry read aloud the the words "Department of the Army" off the scrap of envelope and I _still _didn't get it. Not at first. Then, like a jigsaw puzzle, all the pieces suddenly fit into an agonizing picture. Soda had to be dead, Pony had bolted and Darry was left alone. Oh shit.

Even I crumpled. Too many of our friends were gone, died in too many horrible ways. I didn't blame Ponyboy for leaving, I wouldn't want to stay either where death and pain were so obvious. But it was killing what spirit had been left in Darry. He had asked me to join him on his trip to Windrixville and how could I say no? I'd always been curious to the place, but not until Darry was loading up his truck did I actually consider going. He was looking for Pony. I seriously doubted that back to Windrixville was where the kid would have gone to, it held way too many painful memories for him. It took a year to quell the nightmares that place and time gave him. Made no sense for him to return there. But, like I said, Darry asked. There are just some things you just don't say "no" to.

As I expected, there wasn't anything there to find. We looked for an hour, sifting through rubble and searching the area, but he simply wasn't there. It seemed to be the end for Darry. He gave me his keys and I drove us back home. He hasn't been the same since.

So, here I am, getting their mail and going into their house to cook him some dinner. He'll be home in about an hour. I owe him, every Greaser in town owes him, even though he would never ask me or anyone else to pay up. He's given me shelter, a place to stay when I needed it, food out of his fridge when they themselves were hungry, and anything and everything else a person could need in this world, _for years_ asking only for the respect he deserved for it. He deserves so much damn more that what he got.

I cooked up pork chops and green beens, finishing up when I heard the door close.

"Hey, Darry." I said, putting our plates on the table, I poured him some milk and got myself a beer, then sat down. "How was work?"

"Long, it was a long, tiring day. Thanks for cooking, Two-Bit. I was just gonna make a sandwich..." His voice trailed off. He picked up his fork and started eating, and I was glad. I was worried he'd do what Ponyboy did when Soda was drafted – stop eating, stop living, just stop. As long as Darry ate, went to work and came home, I figured he'd survive this.

He glanced over at the mail on the table next to him. A few bills and a rather large envelope. He put his fork down and picked up the envelope.

"Las Vegas, Nevada." He read the post mark.

"Who do you know in Vegas?" I asked, curious.

"No one." He said, his brow furrowed a bit. He flipped the envelope over but there was no return address on it. He tore open the side of the envelope and emptied it on the table. Another envelope fell out.

"Four Seasons Suites" was stamped on its upper corner. Preprinted hotel stationary stuff. However, Darry sat up quickly, jarring the table with his motion. His name and address was on this envelope too, but the _print_ was different, familiar. Darry recognized the print. He had reviewed enough of Ponyboy's homework over the last two and a half years to not recognize it.

"It's Ponyboy!" He said. I jumped out of my seat and went next to him. "I'd recognize that handwriting anywhere!"

"Open it up, Darry!" I didn't need to prompt him, he was already carefully tearing open the side, but what came out put us both in shock.

Five bricks of one hundred dollar bills, one hundred bills per brick poured out. Even with my education, I had to count up the zero's.

"Darry," I said when the shock was wearing off, "that's $50,000!"

He sat there, speechless. Then he picked up a brick of bills and fanned it. Each brick was still wrapped in it's original mint band. Holy Shit, he's rich! But he wasn't saying anything, just staring at it. I noticed a piece of paper sticking out of the envelope and pulled it out.

"Dear Darry..." it said.

"Darry, here man, read this." I handed him the letter and he read it. When he was done, he took a ragged breath and handed the paper to me.

"Pony said to say hi to you."

I took the paper and started to read. When finished, I looked back at him. He hadn't moved. Finally he turned to me and simply said....

"I'd give it all back to have him home with me again."

XXX

Reviews please! Thanks for reading! One tiny note, this takes place _before_ the phone call from Steve, it's coming soon. This is from Two-Bit's perspective, and he wasn't there when the call came in. I hope that clears up anyone's confusion.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer... I don't own anything from The Outsiders

Chapter 12

Darry's Side of The Call

After a week of sunshine, the weather was changing. I woke up to overcast gloomy skies, foreboding weather. You could feel it pressing on you. Better call in, I thought, and swung myself out of bed.

"Hey, Jim? … Yeah, it's me, Darrel Curtis. We still doin' that job out on Magnolia Road today? … Okay! I'm on it, see ya there." Yup, gotta go to work.

I showered and shaved, got dressed, then on my way out stopped at Soda's door, just as I had done almost every morning since that miserable letter from the Army came, the one that brought death back to my house.

"Damn it, Soda, why?" I whispered it softly, barely letting the words escape my lips. I half wished for an answer, but knew it wouldn't ease the pain. I tapped the door frame lightly with my knuckles and continued out to my truck

I put the money Pony had sent in a lock box I keep in my closet, where my will, my parents legal papers and our birth certificates are kept. I also put the letter and both the envelopes it came with in it too. It had all arrived 2 days ago, my only contact with my last blood relative alive on the planet, but no return address to help me find him. All I knew was it came from Las Vegas, Nevada.

I still didn't know what to do with the money. I didn't want to spend it – even to pay off the bills, and I didn't want to deposit it in the bank either. It felt like dirty money, blood money. Like I had traded off a brother to live free of debt. I _still_ had no clue how he _got_ it.

It gnawed on me all day, so much so I didn't notice the rain until it was suddenly coming down in torrents. Everyone was headed for their vehicles, scattering like mice, and I joined them. Escaping home was logical, I could think there without the threat of falling off a roof.

I changed out of my wet clothes and into dry ones and stood in my living room. It was so quiet. The boys weren't wrestling, knocking stuff over. Ponyboy wasn't curled up in a corner of the couch reading a book or playing solitaire at the table. Two-Bit wasn't raiding my fridge for beer and cake. I vaguely remembered a time when Johnny and Dally would hunker down in my kitchen and talk about wild stuff. The silence in my house was deafening. Then the phone rang, shattering the stillness.

"Pony," I said automatically in the receiver, "that you?"

The voice on the other end had a scratchy, far off quality to it.

"Hell no, Darry, it's me, Steve! Damn it's good to hear your voice! How ya been?"

His voice was a relief to hear. Finally someone else was alive. My momentary joy was fleeting though as my heart sank again. I knew I'd have to tell him about Soda, this news would kill him, knowing how tight those two had been.

"Steve..." I faltered. How do I do this?

"Darry?" He questioned back. "What's wrong? I can hear it in your voice."

Oh damn, he's gotten much more perceptive than I remembered. I could see his face in my mind, looking like he was expecting a right hook. He was never the type to hedge around, and usually, I wasn't either.

"Steve, um, listen. This is gonna be hard for you, but Soda... Soda's...." My voice wavered again. I couldn't say it. Knowing he was still in the battlefield and needed to look out for himself every second tore me apart. If Steve lost his concentration over his grief for Soda and was killed because of it, I'd never be able to accept it. I must have weighed these thoughts too long, because he cut in again.

"Hey, Darry, listen … I ain't got a lot of time, but Soda got hurt, shot pretty bad, but he's doing fine now. He's here with me at the hospital. I took one in the leg, too, but it's just a scratch, really."

My brain went into overload. What did I just hear? He's alive? But the chaplain said he was dead!

"He's alive?" I shouted out questioningly, stopping Steve mid-sentence.

"Yeah, man, of course he is. I was just in his room talking with him about getting out of here. Phone cord wont reach or I'd let you talk to him."

I couldn't help it. Tears of joy, confusion, love, gratitude all sprung up from a deep well within my soul.

"Hey, are you bawling?" I heard Steve questioning me, but I had one thing I had to ask. I had to know for _certain._

"He's alive. You're not just yanking my chain? He's flesh and blood alive?" I was loud, but I wanted to be clear. The static on the line was at times strong and I didn't want any confusion. My heart and my soul were counting on this answer. "Steve, answer me!"

"Yeah, Darry, he's alive! I swear. Why?" He sounded as if I were accusing him of cheating at cards.

"They told us he was killed in action." It was blunt. It was brutal. It was the truth. And it was a _**lie**_! Damn, I hated the Army just then. How can they tear families apart like this. I could hear the anxiety in Steve's voice when he spoke next.

"Darry, on a stack of Bibles placed over your parents graves, I SWEAR, Soda is alive!"

The operator broke in, informing me I had a minute left to discuss everything. It would never be enough time.

"No, Darry, listen. He's with me," Steve continued, "and we're both coming home together, alive, I swear! I'll let you know more when I can. Darry, tell Ponyboy...."

Silence

"Steve? Steven?" Damn! I hung up the phone. It took a moment but I had just realized the enormity of what had just happened.

"He's alive! My little brother is alive!" I screamed out loud, even though no one was there to listen. My hands were shaking and I couldn't control them. I wasn't crying, but still... emotions overtook me anyway. I had forgotten how to be happy!

XXXX

Damn this rain! I'm getting soaked! I'd finished my deliveries for the day and was headed home, but I stopped when I saw Darry's truck parked at his house. I suppose you cant put up a roof if the roof is wet. Better stop in to check on him.

I was drenched in the short distance from the curb to his door, and I knew he hated it when we'd get his floors wet. Pony was always catching heck for it, running track in all weather, especially during the training months. I wasn't going to go in until I had asked for a towel to step on, but when I looked through the screen door I saw him leaning on the counter by the phone, shaking like a leaf again. Now what? How much more misery can we take? How much more despair can this family be expected to live through? Who up there has it out for these guys? I opened the door and stepped inside. Darry turned to me, a _smile_ spread over his face. Huh?

"He's alive, Two-Bit! Soda... the Army screwed up. Steve just called from over there, said he and Soda were alive. Swore to it!"

Darry and I met half way across the room and I had him in a bear hug even he couldn't breath against. Very unmanly, I know, but I didn't care. I think I shed a tear or two. Thank heavens I'm still dripping from the rain or he'd have noticed. "What's the deal?"

"Said only that Soda'd been shot bad but was doing well now, Steve said he was hit too, and that they are both still in the hospital. He said he'd call back when he could. He's alive, Two-Bit!, he's alive. Oh Soda....."

I noticed his eyes redden, but he was controlling his emotions better.

"Oh, God....Soda …. Ponyboy...."

"Darry, one thing at a time." I could see Darry's eyes becoming overwhelmed with all this. I gently pushed him into the closest chair and got myself a towel from the bathroom.

"Did Steve say when he'd call back?"

"No, phone line went dead."

I mopped up the water I'd tracked in the house. Darry hadn't even noticed. Next thing I knew he was on his feet headed back to the phone. He dialed some numbers, then paused.

"Information, ... yes, I need the number for the Four Season's Suites in Las Vegas, Nevada."

I watched him write something down before he hung up the phone. He turned to me, all serious again.

"This ain't gonna be easy, Two-Bit. Pony's got a two weeks head start on me, and if he's got money like I think he does, this is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack. He could be anywhere."

"Darry, it's more like finding a Pony in a herd of wild mustangs, don't ya think?" I winked at him, and he smiled. Finally some good news! It's about time!

XXXX

Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks to everyone who has stayed with me through this!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Idling

"Four Seasons Suites, Kelly speaking, how can I help you?"

I had finally gotten through.

"I'm calling long distance from Oklahoma looking for someone who may have been a guest of yours a week or so ago. His name's Ponyboy Curtis." My fingers had threaded into the curls on the phone cord, waiting for her to search her ledger of recent guests. Finally she came back on the line.

"Sir, there was a P.M. Curtis who was here early last week, but he's already checked out of the hotel." It was him, had to be. I felt my heart race some.

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Sir, we aren't allowed to talk about our guests. Sorry." She had a smart little missy tone to her voice that I wanted to reach through the phone line and strangle. Obviously she hasn't dealt with a pissed off hood. I'd never thought of myself as being one, but I'd sure come out of that shell if I had to.

"He's a **16** year old juvenile, who is missing, a runaway, that **you** allowed to stay in your hotel, _unsupervised_. If you don't want to talk to the cops about it, _**Kelly**_, than you had better talk to me. **Now**!" That shut her up. I bet she was a few shades paler too! "How did he pay?"

I silently dared her to hang up on me, but she didn't.

Quietly, she voiced back, "cash."

"How much?"

"Twenty dollars a night for four nights."

"Anything else?"

"He had room service, I remember cause I had to cook it. Hamburger, plain."

Yep, that sounded like Ponyboy. At least he was eating. I was at a loss, then remembered something else. "Did he fill out a registration card?"

"Yes, all guests do. Come to think of it, I remember his ID said he was 18. He didn't really look it, but you'd be surprised what we get here. I didn't know he was 16, or he wouldn't have been allowed to register.

She was sounding upset, and I didn't want to rattle her anymore.

"Look, you didn't know. Do you still have that card? He's not in trouble, we're just trying to find him."

"It's locked up in the bosses office, filed away. I don't have access to it. I'm very sorry, if I had known, I'd have refused him a room."

That scared me even more. I would rather he be safe in a warm room off the streets than sleeping in a cold alley with God knows what around him.

"No, just... look, if he comes back, let him stay again and call me. Here's my number......." Before I hung up, I tried one last long shot of a question.

"Any idea where he may have gone when he checked out?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I wasn't working that day. I do hope you find him, though." She sounded sincere.

"Me too. Thanks." I hung up the phone.

It was my only lead thus far and it was a dead end. I had this knot in my stomach that was telling me to go there, that I'd never get answers over the phone. Even this Kelly girl didn't want to give up any information until I got forceful. I still needed to see that registration card, something on it may lead me to a new clue, like a trail of breadcrumbs. If I didn't act fast enough, those crumbs would blow away and be gone forever.

As I was standing there stuck in thought, Two-Bit showed up, driving his work truck. It's amazing he still has that job. I smiled as he came through the door.

"Hey, Two-Bit. Enjoying your bosses new wheels? At last you can drive something that everything works on." I had to tease him, his own car was still a junk heap.

"It's my pride and joy, man. How's it going? Find anything yet?"

Reality came biting me back on my ass. I shook my head.

"He stayed at that hotel for 4 nights but left over a week ago. Oh, yeah, it appears he has acquired a fake ID. One they can't spot flaws on. His has his age at 18. I wonder _who_ he learned how to get a good fake ID from?" Two-Bit knew exactly what I was hinting at. He looked as guilty as could be.

"Well, I guess he was paying attention, after all," came his sheepish reply.

I sighed. I had hoped Pony had paid close attention to everything we had taught him. I was never convinced he used his head here at home, but now that he was on his own without any backup from us, he was going to have to use what ever street smarts he had absorbed from us to get through what ever dangers lay before him. It killed me that I couldn't protect him. Getting a fake ID was a good start, although I'd skin him if he were here for it. I knew that ID would be a ticket for him to get a place to stay. I wondered if that ID also had anything to do with the sudden money flow he had. _Behave yourself, Pony, and be careful_, I begged silently.

I shook my head. "I'm out of ideas. Until I see that registration card from the hotel, I don't know what else to do."

"Maybe we can go there and look around. How big a place can it be?"

I just stared at Two-Bit. Did he ever look at a map during all those years in high school?

"Uh, Two-Bit, Vegas ain't like Tulsa."

"Well, hell, I know that, Darry. But he ain't in Tulsa. So the next step is we go to Vegas to see what we see. I got a week off, once I turn in the truck. Come on, whaddya say?"

At first, I was about to grab a bag and go, then I remembered Soda, and smiled.

"Cant, yet. I'm waiting for Steve to call again about when they are coming home. I ain't missing that call. Once I get them home, then we'll go.

Two-Bit was raiding my fridge as I explained this. He came up with a beer and leftover chicken. "Sounds like a plan, my man. Just let me know when you're ready to go – I'll be ready too."

"You don't have to go, Two-Bit, I know you have work....."

He looked at me funny and put his beer down. I guess I'd offended him somehow. "Darry, this is family. I know my 'Curtis' genes are a bit weak, but you guys are as much my family as my sister and mother are. Savvy? I want to find him, too. Besides..." he looked down and walked away to the table to sit, "if I had been here when he got home that day, none of this would have happened. I never would have let him run off. I promised Soda to look out for him, and failed to keep the only promise ever asked of me."

I realized then how much pain he was feeling too. "This isn't your fault. Two-Bit. It's my job to look out for him, not yours. Look, after Soda and Steve get settled, then we'll go." I took a swig of his beer and handed it back, smiling at him. My family was coming back together, slowly. At least things were headed in that direction again.

XXX

Reviews please. This was a hard chapter to write, and I have re-written it a few ways to get it better. I hope it meets with your satisfaction, even if it isn't a home run.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Gravity

"Hey Steve!" The look on his face was priceless. He had been staring down at me for over two weeks now as I lay in that bed, recuperating. Today I finally managed to gather enough energy to stand up, even if it was fleeting.

Most of my tubes and IVs were gone. They left one IV in my arm hep locked, which is a fancy way of saying it wasn't hooked to anything, but they could give me medicine or IV fluids in case of emergency. I guess the doctor was still worried about my kidney.

Even the catheter was removed, which made me happiest of all. Now maybe Steve would quit ribbing me about it. I knew his torture wouldn't be anything like what Two-Bit could come up with half drunk, though. Just not natural to have that, but I understood_ why_ I needed it. As long as it didn't hurt to pee and the color stayed normal like it had been, the doctor was said it was safe to remove.

Steve had left my room for a moment and I took advantage of it. I had been feeling antsy to get up for a while and forgot that my strength was zapped. He came back in just as I got upright, then my muscles refused to hold my frame, and I found myself headed south to the floor. Steve caught me as I was going down, good thing he was there, or I'd be a crumpled mass on the floor by now.

"Soda, just what the hell are you doing? Jesus, man, I cant leave you alone for a second! You're getting worse than your brother!"

I tried to come up with a smart answer, but failed. I wasn't as quick as Two-Bit, but I usually could come up with something. Not now, though, I looked Steve in the eyes as he plopped my sorry ass back in the bed. "I just want to go home, Steve, I just want to go home," was the best I could do.

"Good, cause our flight's in the morning."

I looked at him. Was he serious? Years of poker playing with him had taught me his tells, his bluffs. I didn't see any. "Serious?"

"Yep. I talked to your doc. He's doing the paperwork now. My orders are already cut, but I'm just waiting on yours. We leave together, buddy, just like we came in."

He sat next to me on the bed. Tears wanted to come but I pushed them back down. I did manage to clop him on the shoulder, though. "Home, man, I can't wait. Have you called them yet?"

Steve nodded. "I called a few nights ago. Darry seemed very happy to hear you were doing okay." Steve couldn't tell Soda the _exact_ truth, that the Army in it's infamous wisdom had informed Darry and Ponyboy that their middle brother was killed in action. They had to be happy now, he was sure that being alive was a vast improvement in his condition.

The door opened and Capt. Brenner, my doctor, entered.

"How are you feeling, Private Curtis?"

"Good, Sir." I didn't want care if I was in agony, which I wasn't at the time, I just wanted out of the hospital and out of 'Nam.

"I see you're trying to stretch your legs after being cooped up in that bed for so long." I was still sitting on the side of the bed where Steve had put me. "However, you may want to wait until you get stateside and have physical therapy there to help you first. It took me two hours to fix your kidney, don't you go breaking it again trying to run around yet." He was smiling, then he reached over and handed me some papers. "These are your travel orders. You and Private Randle here will be on the 0300 medivac out in the morning. You're headed to Ft. Sam Houston, Texas, for a while to fully recover, then you'll be medically discharged from service. Thank you, son, for all you've done over here. I know it's been rough for you, but you've saved countless lives and each one of them thanks you for it. A good medic like you is hard to come by. Perhaps you'll make it a career once you're out, being an EMT is just as rewarding."

He paused, and I just looked at him. Me? I ain't got no diploma, was shanghaied over here, given only fourteen days of training and then sent out to get shot. No thanks! Give me back my DX cap and leave me the hell alone! "Thank you, sir, I'll consider it." Capt. Brenner smiled and left.

Steve was staring at me. "Are you _**serious**_?" He nearly squeaked. I smiled, he still couldn't read all my bluffs. Perhaps we'd play poker on our flight home!

XXX

I was just about to leave for work when the phone stopped me. "Damn it, I'm gonna be late!" I mumbled out loud. Answering the phone, I was greeted by static, then a quiet voice far away touched my soul and I dropped my tool belt to the floor by my feet.

"Hey, Darry, it's me, Soda." Tears filled my eyes. I had believed Steve, I really had, but to hear Soda's voice so out of the blue was still something I didn't expect.

"Hey, little buddy. How are you?" I murmured back.

"I'm fine, but... kinda got shot up. I'm better now. Really. The doc's don't want me walking yet, but it's only temporary. Hey, listen, Steve and I are leaving in a few minutes. Flying home! We'll be landing at Ft. Sam Houston in about 15 hours – give or take. I wanted to fly straight home to Tulsa, but gotta make these Army people happy or I'll never get free!"

I could hear the laughter in his voice. It made me smile too.

"Anyway, Steve or I will call when we land. I only have a minute or so left to talk. How's Ponyboy? Is he there? Can I talk to him?"

Silence

"No, Soda, he, uh, he ain't here right now. You go on and have a good flight. Tell Steve I said 'thank you.' I'll see you real soon, little buddy, real soon. And Soda – I love you." I heard noises in the background, the static got worse then the phone went dead on his end. I hung up.

I wasn't sure if Steve told him what the Army told us, but from the sound of it, he wasn't too concerned over his premature demise. As for explaining Ponyboy's departure, I'd have to do that in person. I wanted to physically hold on to the next brother when bad news was received.

Fifteen hours. I'd see one of my brothers again in fifteen hours. I picked up the phone again and called my boss.

"Hey, Mr. Bolton, Darrell here. Look, something just came up and I won't be in today, probably not tomorrow either. I know this puts you in a rough spot, I'm sorry, it can't be helped. …. Yes sir, I'll see you then, and thank you!"

Again, one more call. "Auto Superstore, Darleen here, how may I help you?"

"Hey, Darleen, I need to speak with Two-Bit. He there?"

"Oh, hey, Darry. No, he's out on a delivery. Want me to radio him?"

"Yeah, tell him Soda's on his way home, and have him get in touch with me at my house. He'll understand. Thanks."

I picked up my tool belt and returned it to my room, then packed a bag for the trip. I was going to Texas to surprise Soda and Steve when they landed. It was a long ride, but I didn't care. I'd be damned if he arrived and I wasn't there to meet him. I was tossing in some of Soda's clothes figuring he'd want something familiar to wear when I heard the screech of tires outside. The door slammed and Two-Bit was suddenly there, out of breath making a bee line for me.

"When are they coming?" He managed to say while still trying to catch his breath. Either he was out of shape this bad or he pushed his truck here. Time to start cutting down on the booze, my friend. Obviously Darleen had radioed him.

"Calm down. Fifteen hours or so. I'm going to Texas to meet the plane. Can you watch the house for me?"

"Watch the house! ... Hell, no!"

I stopped and looked at him. He looked royally pissed. Now what?

"I'm coming with you, Darry, just let me go pack a bag and I'll be set."

I just looked at him. "But, your job..."

He cut me off. "I thought I made it clear. Family is family. I'm coming with you." His voice softened only a little, but his eyes were determined. I was grateful.

"Okay, go pack your stuff. Be back within an hour while I get directions and get some road snacks made up for us." Two-Bit nodded and left. I looked up and thanked anyone listening for the friends we have. They've always been there for us, and I was indeed grateful.

XXX

Reviews, reviews...I beg thee for reviews! I know, we haven't heard from Ponyboy in a while, be patient. That colt will be coming soon!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Riding North

"Last Stop, Wolf Creek. Wolf Creek, One Hour"

The ride north had been punctuated by some of the most scenic views I've ever imagined. No book or movie could ever capture the pure majesty of the landscape and wildlife I have witnessed out of my window.

I was glad the train I was on wasn't going fast, or if it was I didn't perceive it to be. Time seemed to slip by unnoticed as the vast territory held little signs of civilized life, only the train tracks stretching before us bore silent witness that man had come this far. Outside my window the grandness of untamed earth beckoned me forward, and I went outside to the platform where you could stand and see around you unhindered by glass. The air was crisp and clean, the landscape stretching far and wide.

The mountains existence in the distance gave my eye a new beauty to behold. This morning I woke just before sunrise and made my way to this tiny spot, and watched as the first gentle wisp of sunlight reached out over the horizon and touched the mountain top, chiseled and broken into massive alternating areas of peaks and valleys, invoking it to come alive with color. The sunlight danced about, settling here and there, finally reaching into the shadows hiding behind the peaks, calling out their secrets. All this gave the illusion that the mountains were a_ living _thing, a beauty to behold in its own right. Colors of trees with varying shades of green for the different types of pines, along with blazing crimsons and oranges heralding the coming autumn swayed around as the sun rose higher into the sky. Shadows, at first obtuse patches of gray in the mountains face, shrank into smaller and smaller entities revealing yet more color and depth the mountain possessed.

The palate of color the sunrise created in the sky was matched on the face of that mountain range and I was humbled to behold it. As the hour passed the sky became as brilliantly blue as any sapphire could become, void of clouds that could tarnish its luster.

I saw from the many distant clusters of trees a bird take flight, its wingspan several feet across, gliding on air seemingly weightless against the crystal blue sky. As it came closer I could see its head and tail feathers as white as snow and its strong body covered with feathers of dark brown. A Bald Eagle, a symbol of strength against adversity, flying majestically over the vast landscape. How small I suddenly felt.

Deer were loping in the distance, a small pond offering them that mornings first drop of water was nearby. Some of the deer were already there, dipping their heads in but raising them in alarm as the train drew closer. The young pranced back to their mothers while the mothers stood tall and resolute. The train, I suppose, was no longer considered a threat to the older does.

Another hour passed and the thundering boom of two bighorn rams could be physically felt as well as heard. I spotted them almost too late, as the train weaved along the tracks over the flat lands, up the mountains and through the valleys. They faced each other, then reared up to strike. The resulting concussion reverberating over the earth. They fought for dominance, the victor of the battle receiving the right to lead the pack, and to have the mate of his choice.

I could ride this train forever and never get bored with the splendor in front of me.

As the hour to arrive in Wolf Creek wound down, signs of civilization became more evident. A road appeared in the distant landscape and small stores came into view. Finally a station grew from a tiny blip in the distance into a large building with a platform. Returning at last to my seat, I gathered my bags from the locked storage bin and prepared for the arrival. Minutes later, I found myself leaving the station and stood alone on the corner outside, realizing I had arrived at my destination, now what do I do?

My stomach rumbled and I looked around. I could smell it before I could see it – chocolate. I let my nose lead the way to a small bakery down the street. The place smelled of fresh baked breads and pastries. The shop was warm and inviting and I settled into a booth, savoring everything around me.

"What can I get ya?" The waitress crept up behind me, startling me for a moment. I had spent two days on that train and no one had paid me any attention the whole time. Getting my breathing back under control, I ordered milk and chocolate cake.

I was absorbed in the scent of the place. We had bread stores back home, and Darry had on occasion made pumpkin bread for the holidays, but nothing I'd experienced smelled this good. My cake and milk arrived and I looked at her. She looked like she was 18 or so. Soda would have been captivated..... Soda....... My eyes fell back to my plate. I was still hungry, but it wasn't as strong as before. A sudden emptiness filled me. I spotted a pay phone in the corner, and I wondered....

"Hey, you okay?" she asked.

My eyes were diverted from the phone back up to her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just new in town. What's there to do here?"

"Ice skating, bowling, movies, malls. Just like any other town."

I didn't tell her not every town had ice skating, but the rest of it sounded pretty typical. I guess I was making a mess of the cake, cause she smiled at me. I felt my ears go hot and knew I was a few shades of red. I drank the milk to try to settle down. She walked back to the counter and started fooling with the menu's.

I noticed the ledge held some of those free magazines, the ones where people post stuff they are selling or wanting to buy. I grabbed one and flipped through it. One of those adds caught my attention.

_Room for rent. Full kitchen/laundry privileges. Private bath. Separate entrance. $30/month. Call....._

There were a lot of those listings, but this one was the only one with a separate entry way, which I liked. Using the pay phone, I called them up and made an appointment for the next day. I couldn't go living out of hotels forever, but I supposed I'd need one again at least for tonight.

Before I stepped away from the phone, my eyes dialed the number so familiar to me, but my hands took no action. My feet moved me back to my booth. "Excuse me," I called to her. She looked up, smiling, then walked back to my table.

"You rang?"

"There any decent hotels around here?"

"Flemmings Inn is good, so is Pelican Harbor. They're both down that way," she pointed off down the road.

"Thanks. Can I get my bill?" She stared at me a moment longer, smiling again, then went back to the cash register and rang it up. I paid my ticket and headed in the direction she had indicated. Small shops dotted the way, here a gas station, there a diner. What stood out the most was how open the town was, trees and wide open fields interspersed between evidence of civilization.

Eventually, I passed a school and stopped to stare at it. I should be in class now, I thought. Looking at my watch, I knew my history class was in full swing, and I was absent.

I wasn't sure how to fix this one. I can't exactly walk in there and register up – they would want to talk to Darry about making it an official transfer, and THAT wouldn't happen. Nope, the cops would be up here hauling me back in a heartbeat. _**Truant! Run Away! Juvenile Delinquent! **_ Of course, I am legally 16, and could drop out, but that thought made me sick, too.

I'd hated it when Soda dropped out. His reasons were different from my mine, but the end result would be the same. Unlike Soda, I _didn't_ want to quit. I just didn't want to go back, either! I kept walking, my mind convoluted in ideas on how to get the education I so desperately want but now can't seem to get.

My feet were getting rather tired when I looked up and saw a sign saying "Pelican Harbor" on it. Reaching the desk, I requested a room.

"Honey, you got to be 18 for that." I wasn't sure what she thought I was gonna do in that room, I was alone after all. I fished in my pocket and pulled out the fake ID, handing it to her. Her eyebrows went up and she looked over her glasses at me, but I was too tired to care anymore. Give me a room or send me on my way, I thought. I've slept on the floor of empty cold churches, the abandoned car seat in the old lot and in empty bouncy freight cars. I could handle the bench down at that park I passed on my way up here for a night with no problem. Then I thought about the money in my bag and was concerned again.

But she just shook her head and handed me a check in sheet to sign. I filled it out, but used my middle name, Michael, in place of my first name and Johnny's old address for my own. I paid the fee and she gave me a key.

"Room 207, down the hall, up a flight, room's on the left. Continental breakfast starts at 6 AM."

"Thanks," I said.

"You're welcome, Michael." It stopped me in my tracks, but I looked over at her and nodded. That was gonna take a bit of getting used to. My whole life I had been _adamant _about my name. Dad named me and I loved it's originality. Soda and I had been a pair with the most unique names in town. I had never been ashamed of its uniqueness, and I still wasn't. But it would be easy to stand out in this town with a name that unique. Sorry dad, I thought, as I climbed the stairs. I'll always love my name, even if I have to hide it for a while.

XXX

Whew, wish I were on that train with him! I've spotted some bald eagles flying wild here in my rural area of NC, they are magnificent birds! Hope you enjoyed this. Have a great New Year, everyone. Reviews, please. For those who don't understand, reviews are what keep us, the writers, motivated to churn these works out. Thanks again! Hey Samaryley!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Agony of Death

It was a typical hotel room from what little of them I've experienced so far. Nothing fancy – a double bed, TV, desk and a few lamps. The bathroom was standard too. They offered a variety of soaps, shampoo's and a shower cap. I noticed the last hotel had a shower cap too. I would love to know who actually uses them. They aren't big enough to cover your head and too flimsy to keep any water out. Not that I was using them, though, but I was curious to stuff like this. To me, it was just another piece of worthless trash, but it was offered at both hotels I had been at so far. Didn't make sense, I'd rather have had an extra bottle of shampoo.

I put my stuff on the table and turned the heat up in the room. I was used to being in a cold room at night, Darry was always keeping the thermostat down low in order to save money on the bill, but I wanted to be warm for a change. I hoped he was doing okay now, with the money I sent he could afford to have the house nice and toasty every night.

My mind was still working out how to get back into school, but I couldn't think of a single thing. It was giving me a headache trying to figure it out. I took some aspirin from my bag, swallowed them and, being bored, pulled out my wallet. I didn't have much in it, opting to keep only a few dollars in my pants pocket instead of having to pull out this ratty old trifold every time I bought something. I'd had it for over a year now. It was mostly empty except for some old photo's of Darry and Soda, and the typical standard- issue rubber any 16 year old guy carried around with him.

Two-Bit gave it to me as a gag gift in front of the gang trying to embarrass me. He did, and they all had a good laugh at my expense, but I kept it anyway. I think it worried the hell out of Darry, but it seemed to relieve Sodapop. After the fiasco with Sandy he would rather me not throw caution to the wind. I don't know what either of them were so worried about. I'm still a virgin at 16, a fact I'm pretty sure Soda knew and therefore had to have passed on to Darry. I like girls, yeah, sure; it's just I don't want what almost happened to Soda to ever be a possibility for me. And I had lived the last few years of my life seeing what that parental-like responsibility did to Darry. When he took us on, he changed from being happy and carefree to working all the time, broke all the time, and worrying all the time. I am amazed he didn't quit with us, it was just too much responsibility too soon. One day, after I finish college and I am able to take on that responsibility, then I'll pursue the dating game. Until then, I have zero interest. Even if that zero interest is forced.

Oh, yeah, college. That idea brought me back full circle to trying to figure out how to return to school.

On the other side of my wallet, a small yellow scrap of paper stuck out. When I opened it, I remembered where it came from. That waitress at that diner in Nevada. I thought and thought about it. She seemed nice enough, concerned but knew to keep her distance. She didn't push for any information, allowing me to decide what to give and what to keep. Would she help me or turn me in? Only one way to find out. I picked up the phone and called the number she left me, my fingers crossed the whole time.

"Hello?" I recognized her voice.

"Um, yeah, hi. You helped me out at the diner the other day. You said if I needed help, I could call you, remember?"

Over in Nevada, the woman's mind went back to the sweet boy who wandered in on foot out of the desert looking as lost as could be, needing water but wanting that crispy bacon. She smiled.

"Yes, honey, I remember. What can I do?"

"Well, I need your help." He became silent, how much do I tell her?

"Honey?" She questioned the silence on the phone.

"I'm not in trouble – like bad trouble or anything. I'm just trying to start over. I told you I was there because of my brother, remember?"

She nodded her head, then remembered he couldn't see her. "Yes, honey, I remember."

"Well, he died in Vietnam a few weeks ago. He was only 18. My parents are also dead, from a car wreck. I had nowhere to go so I left. I'm in Montana now. It's beautiful here, and I want to stay, but I need to get back in school. I know I can't register, but if I take my GED then maybe I can enroll in college soon. I don't know you and you don't owe me anything, but could you... um... pretend to be my mom and help me with the paperwork to let me get my GED?"

This was a very large request. All he wanted was an education, and her help would give it to him. How odd, most kids fight to leave school and yet here was a boy, frightened and alone, desperately wanting _**in **_school. How could she say no?

Her own son, Devin, was off in that bloody war too. Her chin quivered as she thought of him: he had dropped out and found himself drafted away like so many other young men in the country. It was like turning 18 was a punishment instead of an accomplishment.

"Ma'am?" It was Pony's turn to question the silence.

"Carolyn, honey, Carolyn Waters. And yes, I'll help you. Just tell me what you need and somehow we'll get it done. What's your name?"

"Michael, Michael Curtis. Thank you, Mrs. Waters. You're a lifesaver."

She could only hope so.

XXX

As the evening sky began to turn into another myriad of color, I found myself staring out the window looking over this little town. It was a small community and seemed friendly. I hoped I could pull this off, blend in. I put a few dollars in my front pocket, put my wallet in my back pocket, grabbed the room key and stepped out of the hotel. It was a mile down the road, but the diner was beckoning my attention.

XXX

"Hey there, darlin'!" the waitress greeted me, looking me over. I smiled back at her and dipped my head.

"Table for one, please."

She seated me at a booth and handed me the menu. For being all the way up North, this seemed like a lot of southern country type foods.

"Fried chicken plate, please, with Pepsi." I handed back the menu. She smiled at me and went to place my order. I noticed several other diners looking in my direction. When I caught their glances, they would simply smile and nod their head at me. Okay. I got it. Small town, everyone knows everyone else, and a stranger will stand out like a bad paint job. I didn't want trouble, and I didn't want them getting a bad impression of me either, but I've never been a talker especially around strangers. So, I just nodded my head back, ate my food and left a pretty big tip.

The stars were out over the Montana sky when I walked back to the hotel. So far I had survived my first day here. I was ready to go back to the hotel, take a shower and relax for a while.

The hot water felt good. Without wheels, I was forced to walk everywhere. I hadn't seen a bus or bus stop yet. My legs, so used to running sprints for track, were now getting used to walking miles every day. I was a runner for fastest time, not farthest distance, and I was definitely feeling it. I dried off and wrapped the towel around my waist, laying back against the bed. It was an unusual move, Darry had always insisted, just as Dad had, that we boys be dressed in _something_ after getting out of the shower. Mom, being the only lady in the house, wanted us raised properly. After the age of three, all personal parts had to be covered. Even if we were poor, we didn't have to behave crudely. But I was alone in this room, and wanted to feel the warmth blowing from the heater on my bare damp skin.

I flipped on the TV to see what was new in the world. It was early in the evening and the news was on.

"_**Today in South East Asia, 37 more service men lost their lives in heavy combat fighting..."**_

As the narrator did his commentary, the TV screen showed images of the war. Soldiers carrying wounded buddies, some of them alive, busted up and bloodied; others obviously dead in body bags, being taken through the jungle and out to a pick up area.

The whole scene on TV was perhaps 10 seconds long, but it sent me running to the bathroom hurling my dinner into the once clean toilet. Wave after wave hit me, until I could vomit no longer, then my eyes flooded with tears and I couldn't control the sobs that rushed forth from my chest. I collapsed to the floor, letting emotion overtake me.

"Soda, Oh God no, Soda! …. Why? Oh Mercy! WHY!!! Aahhhhh!" Once that flood gate opened up, I couldn't close it. I lay there, weeping like a baby, sobbing like a fool, desperate for a brother whom I would never see again. I think I spent about an hour curled up in a ball, shaking like a leaf, on the floor next to the toilet once my sobs slowed down. I had wondered before who he may have been with and what he may have been thinking, but I hadn't yet attempted to _picture_ what had actually _happened_ to my beloved brother, but for me it was also pretty obvious. Bullets rip into flesh, blood pours out and life ends. I had seen it before with Bob in the park, and Dally on the street. Johnny had endured the least pain with his broken back, but the longest suffering, and in the end, he just went out too.

Seeing that footage on TV made me picture Soda, bullets piercing his flesh and his blood staining the world. I couldn't rip that image from my brain. Even if I dug my nails into my eyes, I'd still see him laying there in the jungle, shot down for all eternity.

Finally I pulled myself up off the floor. I rinsed my mouth to quell the sickening taste of vomit and bile and stared at my myself in the full length mirror. My towel had long since fallen away. What ever genes were left of Soda were now shared by me and Darry. People said Soda and I looked alike, but I never saw it. I looked for it now. I _needed_ to know if there was some part of an commonality we shared. My eyes were green, his brown. My hair was light brownish red, his dark gold, like wheat. Our builds were different too. His was lean but well defined, mine not so much. Lean, yes. Defined, no.

Everyone in the gang had told me I needed to put on more weight. Steve had told me, too. It surprised me that **he** would be so concerned to mention it. But, despite everyones prompting and Darry's flat out insistence that I eat, I couldn't do it. If I got one meal in me in a day, I considered it an achievement. Food hadn't tasted the same since I left Windrixville, over 2 years ago. So my build lacked the definition that was so evident on both my brothers. Only my legs had strong definition, thanks only to my years of track.

So, I heaved another long choking sigh and accepted that Soda and I shared a name only. I loved him. He was my brother, my protector, my advisor, my confidant, and my cheerleader. Now I accepted that he was gone. Truly gone. No matter how many times I would stare in the mirror, I wouldn't see any of him looking back.

XXX

Happy New Year, everyone. Reviews! Please!


	17. Chapter 17

Thank you to everyone who has sent reviews for this story! I appreciate your comments beyond any other gift!

Chapter 17

Riding South

It would take nine hours or so to get to Ft. Sam Houston, Texas. I didn't know what types of issues I'd have when we got there, Soda had listed us as his dependents in his military records and had sent us stickers for our truck. I even had one of those goofy ID cards made up, but I didn't know what else I'd need. I figured I'd leave those concerns for when I actually got there.

"Darry, I'm here!" Two-Bit was screaming in the front door at me. I was in Soda and Pony's room, looking around, thinking and passing the time until time to go. I never even heard him come in, too caught up in my thoughts.

The place had been a mess before when both of them shared the room. Clothes, books, papers – mostly Pony's stuff littered the floor, but a few things of Soda's was mixed in the clutter that had been here. Now it was all put away, the floor bare, the bed made. It didn't seem real.

This room had seen so much from those two. It started off being Soda's room, but after our parents died and Pony's nightmares began, Pony moved in here to Soda's room, seeking solace under Soda's protective arm and comfort from his words. It calmed him down considerably, but Soda would still tell me Pony was still having them, right up to when Soda left for Vietnam.

This is where those two really bonded. Laying here in this bed those two would whisper to each other stuff my ears couldn't perceive. I'd hear them giggling and wonder what was so funny. I'd wish I could have joined in, but no... those days of me being a full time brother had long since passed me by. Soda could comfort Ponyboy in extraordinary ways. He knew how to touch Pony's soul and get him to open up. Nothing I did after Soda left could compare, no matter how hard I tried. No, Soda was in a different league when it came to reading our youngest brother. It made me envious to check on them at night and find Soda's arm protectively covering Pony, with Pony curled in a ball wrapped _into _Soda. Pony's back nestled into Soda's chest.

That last night that Soda lived under my roof was heart wrenching. I wasn't in the room, I hovered outside the door listening to the sobs racking my youngest sibling, tears streaming down my own face, helpless to stop the chaos that was happening to our lives. All night it lasted. I heard Soda try all his tricks, but nothing said would settle Ponyboy down. It's like Pony knew if Soda left him, it would destroy him.

The next morning I saw the bruises on Soda's arms from where Pony had gripped him. My heart bled at that moment. I knew I would _never_ be for that boy what Soda was to him.

It saddened me then, but even more now. I wonder if I had done more to nurture a better bond if he would still have bolted away from me. Now that we were mere hours away from having Soda back, I realized this nightmare was far from over.

Finding Soda alive was a gift straight from above, no doubting that. I thanked Heaven every day since Steve called. I knew he was hurt, but also on the mend. I could handle that. Somehow, we would get through his injuries. I didn't know how to tell Soda that Pony was gone, simply vanishing after receiving the news the had gotten. A new wave of despair began to settle on my heart. It was a truth I'd have to give Soda myself. I only hoped he'd be strong enough to take it.

After Soda's departure I kept busy cleaning the house and going to work.. Pony was cleaning too. He moved back to his old room, never sleeping in their shared bed again. He cleaned up the room they had shared and then walked away from it. To the best of my knowledge, he hadn't stepped foot back in it after telling me he was done.

Now that Soda would be returning, I wondered if the demons that forced Pony out of the room would also do so to Soda. Would he sleep here or in Pony's room? Hell, he could take _my_ room and I'll sleep on the couch, just so long as we are all under the same roof together.

While looking around the room, I noticed one of Pony's old sketch pads. He had them hidden all over the place, tucked under the bed, hidden behind his desk and some shoved in the closet. I don't know if he was hiding them from me or from himself, but opening them I found samples of his pure artistic gift. He rarely showed me his work and I had definitely never seen these before.

This particular pad was filled with pencil sketches of me, Soda and Pony. Some pages had us alone, others had us paired up with each other. One page had all three of us, Soda and I standing behind him, one hand from each of us on his shoulder, smiling, as if posing for a camera. It was one he'd made up in his head, as this one like many of the others, had never been posed for. I wondered if he was trying to draw us into the family we should have been all along, needing each other and reaching out to each other.

I realized then that Two-Bit was looking at it too, over my shoulder. Funny, I hadn't heard him come in.

"Damn, that's pretty good!" He said. His eyes were serious, and I knew he wasn't just trying to be funny.

"Um hmm." I nodded. It was _exceptionally _good. I hoped I could tell him in person one day.

I put the sketch pad down and looked at Two-Bit. "Ready to roll out of here, buddy?"

"Yep, I brought the beer!" He held up a six pack of suds and I shook my head, smiling at him.

"Go put that in the fridge and get out to the truck." He did as told. I mind turned to the room again. I flicked out the light and shut the door, hoping the next time I entered it, it would be with family at my side. _Please come back, Pony. Write me, call me, just tell me where you are._ I thought.

I locked up the house for the first time in years while Two-Bit put his bag in the truck. I handed him the directions and map to Texas. We had plenty of time, again it was roughly a nine hour trip but they had a fifteen hour flight. Closing his door and putting on his seat belt, Two-Bit smiled at me and said simply, "Lets go get your brother!"

XXX

Hope that was satisfactory for you all!


	18. Chapter 18

My grateful thanks to all who have enjoyed this story so far!

Chapter 18

Steve's Worry

"Hey Steve, you got my travel orders?"

"Yeah, Soda, for the tenth time, I got 'em. See, they're right here." He showed me the papers again. I was nervous. We were supposed to have flown out two days ago, but our flight kept getting bumped back. I was antsy to get home, or at least get on the way. Get airborne. I could tell Steve was ready to climb the walls too. His leg was jumping nonstop sitting here. There wasn't much I could do, I was strapped on a litter and had two medics milling about the terminal near me to make sure I stayed in it. They were here to get me on the plane, then they would return to the hospital while other medics took over on the flight back to the states. I really don't know why they were making such a big deal out of it, I had walked up the hospital hallway a time or two since Capt. Brenner gave me the okay to fly. But his flight orders said "transfer via litter," so here I was, flat on my back.

I had a short thrill this morning while Steve was packing up. I managed to escape his vicinity and made a short phone call home. Man, hearing Darry's voice was like hearing angels sing, I was so happy. I wish Ponyboy had been home so I could have talked to him too. I suppose he was at school. Maybe out with a girl, finally? Oh, I could only hope! I didn't want him him wallowing in grief at my absence. I know the last four months must have been the hardest on him. He tries to play the tough card, but we all know how tender he really is.

I only hope Darry had managed to get some weight back on his frame while we were gone. He'd lost so much bulk weight that all signs of the definition that had started to appear on his frame had evaporated. With my homecoming, I'm going to do everything I can to pull him back up, out of the melancholy and sadness that has hovered over him since Windrixville. I want to see him smile again, and not make it be the forced 'yeah, I'm fine' smiles he gave us all the time. Real smiles, I miss those on my little brother.

Damn, I remember back to when I was last home. I can still feel Ponyboy's arms literally crushing me against him, bruising my arms as he fought to not let me go. At times, I have felt my shirt and was surprised it wasn't still damp from his tears soaking clear through to my skin. I didn't want to go, but I had no choice! I wondered if Ponyboy could ever believe that.

Anyway, I could have stayed on that phone forever, but the lines went down again. I swear, this country has the poorest phone connections I've ever seen!

I was hanging up the receiver when I noticed Steve looking at me, sort of pale. I suppose his leg was hurting again. He never admits when it is, just takes the pain meds and goes on about his day. Reminds me of Pony and his aspirin. I'd never tell Steve he sometimes acts like my little brother, though, he'd slug me good for it!

"Who ya callin', Soda?"

"Darry! Told him we were leaving here soon bound for Ft. Sam. It was sure good to hear his voice again. Pony wasn't home, damn I wished he were there so I could at least say hi to him. I hope he's doing alright."

Steve's expression lifted some. "I'm sure hearing your voice was the highlight of their day." Steve had not yet told Soda what Darry had told him, nor did he plan to.

Soda had noticed Steve seemed awful quiet lately. He'd been acting weird for a few days now, like something was up, but he wouldn't say what. He'd either be all consoling or stand-offish, and I didn't know what to make of all this.

"Hey, man, you okay?" I nudged him and he turned around and smiled at me, whacking me on my shoulder.

"Yeah, Soda, I'm good." The thoughts in Steve's mind, however, were troubling.

XXX

Something about home wasn't feeling right. In both the calls home, a tension was in Darry's voice. I'd have thought Darry would be screaming with joy, and while he _was_ happy that Soda was still on this side of the grave, something else was wrong. Something he wouldn't tell me. And why was Pony not home? Hell, that kid rarely leaves his house. Even before I left, Ponyboy had become pale just from lack of being out in the sun. Damn that Windrixville! It was over two years ago but the reach of that place hadn't let loose it's grip on us.

Even though the kid and I don't see eye to eye and he's real clingy to Soda, I still care enough to not want him hurt. I could tell he was, we all could. I remember one day about two months before all this shit happened, dad had been on my case again so I stayed at the Curtis's house. Ponyboy had gotten up first, showered and came into the kitchen for something. He was wearing only a pair of shorts that had once been a pair of Soda's jeans, and the legs had been cut off. As usual, when you try to do that you either make the legs too long or too short, and his were too short. I could see basically his whole body – minus his package. Didn't care to see that, but what I did see shocked me.

"Pony, my God! You're skin and bone!" It was a reaction statement, not something I'd have said if I had thought about it. But there it was.

He looked up, startled, taking a defensive position not sure who was ragging on him or where I was. He obviously expected to be alone in the house. Then he saw me in the living room and turned slightly paler, if it were possible.

"Mind your own business." He called to me as he returned to his bedroom.

I followed him, not caring if I woke up the whole house. Certainly they had to see their own brother withering away. If I could, shouldn't they?

"It_ is_ my business, or I'm _making_ it mine! Pony, ain't you eating _**anything**_?"

Soda stirred and sat up. "Whats going on? Steve, why you yellin' so early for?"

"Soda, you got to be kidding me! Have you looked at your brother lately?"

Soda was wiping the sleep out of his eyes and glanced in Pony's direction. He had already put on a shirt and changed into jeans, so his scrawny frame was covered once more. Pony passed by me in a huff and I just stared at him, then I turned to Soda again after he left the room.

"Soda, when was the last time you saw Pony... ya know... naked?" I wasn't quite sure how to put this. Darry, Soda and Pony were tighter than any other family on our side of town, but how could they _miss_ something this obvious!

"Steve, he's my brother, not my lover. We sleep _**dressed**_, ya dig?"

"What the hell is going on in here?" Darry had woken up from all the commotion and had appeared in the doorway behind me. I appealed to him, he was always the one with more authority over Ponyboy anyway.

"Darry, look, not my place, but have you seen Pony lately? Like **seen him,** seen him? He's too skinny, he ain't eatin, he's …."

"Yes, we know he's lost weight, thank you. And no, I don't make it a habit to oogle my brothers when they ain't dressed." Darry was silent for a second, then looked at me sternly. "When and why were _**you**_ looking at him?"

I explained what had happened in the kitchen and they relaxed. Soda just flopped back on the bed, pulling the covers back over him. Darry went on to the kitchen to start breakfast. I was stunned. If I saw a cat that thin I'd have it put down. It would have to be miserably sick. It was no way to live! I looked out the front door and saw Pony at the fence in his yard staring off at the sunrise. I shook my head and went out, giving this one more try.

"Pony," I said, idling up next to him, "I just think you need to put some weight back on, ya know? Get some meat back on your bones. It ain't healthy for you to be this skinny." My eyes couldn't help it. I looked at the thinness of his arms, the loose way his T-shirt hung limp off him. He turned from the sunrise to me.

"I do eat, Steve Randle, and you're just trying to make trouble. I already told you, mind your own business!" The sun was up and Ponyboy returned to his house. I looked after him as he went inside, loosing site of him behind the screen door. I shook my head and walked on down the street. Pony was not one to get smart with me, and this whole situation wasn't right. No, this just ain't right!

So here I am in this airport terminal, troubled and worried. Darry was still agonizing over something and Pony hadn't been there during either of the phone calls home. If Darry, the worlds biggest work-a-holic could stay by the phone, then where the hell was the worlds biggest homebody?

I began to think perhaps something had happened to Ponyboy, and Darry didn't want to worry Soda about it. Oh, Mercy! If that kid had wasted away before Darry opened his eyes to it, it would kill Soda.

I looked over at Soda, who was mindlessly flipping through an old car magazine, and couldn't help myself. If something had happened to the kid while we were over here, Soda wouldn't be able to take it. Hell, I just got Soda back, I couldn't stand the thought of loosing him again.

I thought maybe I could call Two-Bit, but he was rarely home. Once he got that job driving, he was never in one place long enough. Maybe Tim Shepard would know something. I looked around for a pay phone and found one in the corner across the room. As I got up, an announcement came over the loudspeaker....

"Flight 0616 to San Antonio, Texas, now boarding. All medical staff report to the flight line!"

"Finally!" Soda tossed the magazine over at me, grinning one of his award winning smiles. "Lets go home!"

The medics returned and carried Soda's litter on the plane, I followed next to him. I smiled too, but an uneasiness settled in me. I wasn't sure what we'd find when we landed, I only hoped nothing bad had happened on their end while we were gone.

Finally, Soda was strapped in his fold out seats, still on that blasted litter where he would be forced to stay the whole way home except for occasional trips to the bathroom. I knew his back would be sore by the time we got back on the ground again. I took a seat next to him, trying to settle myself in for the flight.

Finally, the plane pulled away and I could feel the movement of the aircraft accelerate and then lift off. A shout of relief erupted from the entire cabin as the last of the planes wheels parted company with the earth below us, every soldier on board teeming with joy to be leaving this place of pain and sorrow, headed for a better destination. I smiled at Soda, punching him softly on the shoulder, he reached over and chucked me on the arm. We were finally going home.

XXX

Ahhh, lift off! Reviews, comments? Don't like it? Want me to quit? Lemme know!


	19. Chapter 19

Awww, come _on_ folks...ya'll didn't really think I'd just quit, now did ya?

Chapter 19

Starting Over

My emotional meltdown left me exhausted last night, and I was as weak as ever this morning. My thoughts wanted to return to Soda, but they drifted to Darry instead. I wondered if he was hurting too. I know he probably was, but he was always stronger than me, stronger than anyone. He never needed our support, we were always leaning on him. At our parents funeral, Soda bawled and I did too, but not Darry. I don't know what happened at Johnny and Dally's funerals', I was still at home in bed delirious that week, missing any opportunity to have a last goodbye to either of them.

I know in my heart Darry would be okay, better than me. I was the one in _his_ way after all, keeping him from achieving his goals. I had to stay away. Calling him or writing him would mean he'd force me home again, and then he'd never get his life back on track. I stayed away _**for**_ him. It was the only thing I could do, I loved him that much to want better for him, too. Besides, he had Two-Bit at his side, they could support each other.

I took another shower to try to shake this heavy weight off my chest. I had a lot to do today, and I didn't want to be mired down with emotional baggage.

I rifled through my bag, pulling out the best clothes I had. After dressing, I looked at myself in the mirror. These were the best jeans I owned. Once upon a life they had been Soda's, but after he put on some bulk he didn't fit them anymore. My lack of bulk made them fit me fine. They didn't have any oil or grease stains on them either, so they were okay to wear to the interview I had at Mr. Roberts house for that room for rent. It was first thing this morning so I left my bags here. I got directions from the hotel clerk and started out. It was across town, and I just made it there on time.

Walking up to the house, it reminded me of what a typical soc house would look like... nice manicured lawn with a separate detached two car garage. Knocking on the door, I was half expecting someone to scream at me to get off their property, but was pleasantly surprised when the door opened and a man in his mid forties appeared, smiling at me and inviting me inside. I guess Socials didn't exist this far north.

"You must be Michael! Come on in! Where's your car?" He looked in the driveway for a vehicle I didn't possess.

"I walked here, sir. I don't have a car." Darry had started teaching me to drive about six months ago, but with Soda getting drafted, it became the last thing any of us bothered with anymore. Besides, in Tulsa, the bus was reliable transportation, or any greaser in town would gladly offer me a ride. Word was out about Soda and Steve being gone – one by force and the other by choice- and everyone was trying to help. It was a rare greaser who hadn't had either Steve or Soda under the hood of their car at some point.

"Let me show you around." He grabbed a jacket and some keys, and led me back outside.

"How old are you, son?"

"Eighteen, sir. I've always been told I looked younger than I am." Well, it was sort of the truth. I did look younger than I was.

"Got a job?"

"Not yet, but I have some money saved up. Paying the rent wont be a problem." I smiled at him reassuringly, but panic was building in my chest. Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask.

"Well, I'm sure you'll enjoy being here in Wolf Creek. Here's the room..."

He opened the door to a small room over the garage. It wasn't very big, but it was furnished with a bed, armchair, small table and kitchenette. Against one wall was a built in bookshelf containing many old, dusty volumes of classics, many of which I had already read but others which were new to me. The bathroom was in the back next to a closet. The whole thing was like a separate guest house. It would be just fine. I was smiling before I had realized it.

"Place stays heated at a constant seventy five degrees. If that's too hot you can open a window, too cold you can get yourself some blankets."

"No sir, that wont be necessary. It's just fine."

"This is where our daughter hung out. She's off to college now and wont be back for a long while. Had almost given up thinking anyone would want to stay here, not too many new folks move to our little neck of the woods. Now son, there are rules. No drinking, no drugs of any sort, no gambling, no smoking, keep the place clean, and no parties. Rent is due on time... no exceptions. Break any rule, and you'll have to leave. Any questions?"

I shook my head. "No sir." They were pretty much the same rules Darry had for me, except Two-Bit drank like a fish and everyone had played poker on a regular basis before the war tore into our lives. Drugs were never an option I'd consider, I'd rather be dead than use that stuff, and I had stopped smoking over a year ago. We weren't really the party type, either, more the destructive rowdy type, but being alone I was pretty sure I could contain myself.

Mr. Roberts seemed to like me, but I could see the questioning look in his eyes as he gave my ID and my face a second and third glance. I could tell he noticed the two didn't exactly fit together, however his posture relaxed into a smile and a handshake followed when I handed him the money and he gave me the key.

I gave him $90, which was first and last months rent, and an extra month to stay ahead. He went on to work, and I started back up the road toward the hotel again.

An hour later, I had my bags on my shoulder as I checked out of Pelican Harbor. Carrying this money was really starting to make me nervous, although no one had bothered me in the least way. I had passed by a bank on my way to the Roberts house, and saw it again on my return trip to the hotel. This time I stopped in and spoke with a teller, who sent me to someone else.

"I want to open an account, please."

"Welcome! Fill this out and I'll get you started." She handed me a long form. I filled in my name as Michael Curtis, my real birth date – albeit pushed back two years and used my new address, the Roberts's, as my own. After a minute of debating it in my head, I used my real social security number, leaving it to hope and chance I wouldn't get caught. When I finished, I handed it all back to her, along with $300 to deposit. Then I rented a safe deposit box for two dollars a month extra. Left alone in a private room, I loaded it up with the rest of the money and that uncashed check from the casino. It pretty much filled up the box. I closed the lid, found the lady helping me then slid it into its drawer in the bank vault. It required two keys to open it, I kept one and the bank kept the other.

I knew cashing that check or depositing all that money directly into a new account would send up red flags everywhere. Storing it in the safe deposit box in the bank vault was just as secure, and the best part was _**only I**_ knew about it. I felt better now, I had a place to live and the money was finally secure.

I had one last obstacle to take on before all the things I wanted to do today were done. Off in another direction, I went until I came upon a two story brick building with "Board of Education, Haines County," written on it. I took a breath and walked inside.

A woman with gray hair and glasses stood behind a counter. She looked up at me as I came in the door.

"Can I help you, son?"

"Yes ma'am. I need to know what I have to do to get my GED."

She looked down at him. He couldn't be older that 17. "How old are you, son?"

"Eighteen"

She looked at him some more. He sure didn't look it. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a packet, handing it over to him.

"Fill out all these and return it. You will also need a letter formally requesting the exam and the $40 fee. It's a test in five parts, History, English, Math, Science and Geography, and takes seven hours to complete. Lowest passing score on any part is 450, highest score is 800. All parts must be passed in order to earn the GED. No refunds for failing the test or failing to show up. Fill out the packet first and bring back the letter, completed packet and the money, then we'll review it and contact you on your testing date. Got all that?"

"Yes ma'am, thank you." I picked up the packet, it wasn't very thick, but it held my future in it. It wasn't the same thing as the diploma I so badly wanted, worked so hard for and almost had, but it was my ticket to college none-the-less.

"Good luck, son." She called after me as I walked out the door.

Finally, I headed back to the Roberts house. I wondered vaguely when I'd start thinking of it as my apartment. Anyway, everything I had wanted to accomplish today I had done. Arriving back I slipped my key into the door, entered and shut it behind me. I sat the packet down on the table and opened it up. Sample test questions from all five subjects were there as well as suggestions and hints on passing the test. I read all the sample questions and got them all right. I began to relax. Darry had been a great advocate for education, and I did love to study after all. I wasn't going to take the test lightly, but my worry over it dissipated. I filled out the forms and put the parts needing Mrs. Waters signatures on them in a separate pile, again feeling grateful for her help.

I needed to go out again and buy some stuff... envelopes, stamps, milk and food, but my legs were done for for now. I looked over at the book shelf and found one I hadn't read before. I dusted it off and curled up in a chair, opening its cover to see what world it would take me to. It felt good to have a book in my hands again. I relaxed as the story carried me away.

XX

Thanks to the reviewers who are sticking with me! Special shout out to Samaryley, ShotGunOpera, Sarahpop, ms-erupt, fanfar3 and whatcoloristhesky for all your constant wonderful reviews! Thanks, everyone!


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Inbound Flight

"Hey Darry, mind if I ask you a question?"

We'd been on the road for an hour now, but after the initial excitement of knowing "this was it" had worn off, silence seemed to dominate the trip. I was too caught up in my thoughts, and I suppose Two-Bit was too. The radio was keeping the edge off the silence.

"Well, buddy, it's not like I had honestly expected you to stay silent for nine whole hours. Hell, man, you probably talk in your sleep!" I looked over at him and was surprised how serious his face was. He's the joker of the group for heavens sake, _I'm_ supposed to be the serious one. I punched him on the arm, but not hard. "Whassup, Two-Bit, spill it."

He looked over at me, rubbing the spot where I'd whacked him. "What are you gonna tell Soda about this mess?"

Oh hell, there it was. Reality hitting me in the face.

"In all honesty, I don't really know. I wont lie to him, he deserves the truth. Besides that, I've made it a point to never lie to them, to either of them. You know that. But I'll try to keep it as painless as I can." Another mile of scenery passed before I heard him speak again, low and steady and filled with guilt.

"I don't know if I can face him."

I looked over at him, he stared out the windshield refusing to meet my gaze.

"Are you still feeling guilty about Ponyboy leaving?"

He nodded his head ever so slightly, suddenly finding the rubber seal on the window worthy of his attention. I took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

"Two-Bit, I told you, Ponyboy is my responsibility, not yours. **I** am the one who failed to keep him home, not you." Man, did that kill me to say. "You did nothing wrong. You have a right to see other people, to flirt with every skirt in town, and a responsibility to your job. There was no way you or I could have seen what happened coming at us. The Army fucked up, not you.

"You have been there for me every step of the way, and you don't know how much it has meant to me. I couldn't have forced myself to go to work, or eat, or sleep when he first left if not for you being there, pushing me, keeping it together. No one blames you for this, so do _not_ blame yourself!"

"Soda's going to blame me, Darry. He asked me to keep an eye on Ponyboy. I didn't."

"You did the best you could. Soda knows how Pony runs with his emotions leading the way. He always has. He'll be upset, yes...but he'll be upset with _me_, not you.

He was silent another few minutes until the thought of Steve came into his mind.

"Well, it will be good to have Steve home again, too. Wonder if he's gonna move back in with his folks?"

I hadn't thought of Steve's predicament, so caught up in my brothers situations, but I really didn't see that happening. "Dunno. He can hang at my place for as long as he needs though. My couch is always open." With Two-Bit reminding me of the influx of people I'd have in my home again, I began to look forward to the messes they would make in my house. Now I just needed my resident bookworm to make it complete. While I am out scouring the country for Ponyboy, at least my home would be taken care of. Or destroyed. But in a way, that's okay too.

"Hell, Darry, "Two-Bit was finally laughing again, "why don't you just admit it and get it over with. All of us are family in one way or another. Build a damn addition so we can all live here, and then all these troubles will be over!"

"Oh, _**hell**_ no! All of you over at my place..._permanently_...are you _insane_? I can't keep up with what you consume, let alone everyone else. You're working now! Get your own place!"

"What? Pay rent? Then what am I supposed to buy the beer with?" He was smiling at me and I realized I was smiling back. Leave it to him to put a smile on my face. He's definitely one of a kind!

The ride went pretty uneventfully. It was a straight shot once we were out of Tulsa. I drove a few hours then switched off with Two-Bit, gassing up the truck and getting more caffeine to stay awake. A few more hours down we gassed up and switched back again.

It had been close to four in the afternoon when we left Tulsa, and it was nearly one in the morning when I arrived at the main gate to Ft. Sam Houston. A guard standing there indicated that I was to stop.

"Good morning, Sir," said the guard. "What is your business here today?"

I was fumbling for that ID card thing Soda had insisted I get and showed it to the guard in front of me. I was shocked, he couldn't be any older than 18 years old. Exactly who was he protecting? He didn't look like he could scare a yawn from a sleeping giant. Perhaps that was why he carried a rifle and a side arm. I wasn't about to ask if they were loaded or not..

"My brother is on a medivac flight inbound out of Vietnam. It's due to arrive in a few hours, and we're meeting him at the plane."

The guard looked past me at Two-Bit. "Sir, your ID?"

Two-Bit got out his drivers license and handed it to the guard. "I'm a friend," was his meek reply.

"Hold on a moment." The guard went to the little booth situated between the incoming and outgoing lanes to the base and picked up a phone. He spoke on it a few minutes then came back to my window, handing me back our ID's.

"Sir, that flight is 0616 inbound to Lackland Air Force Base." He handed me a map with directions on how to get there.

I turned the truck around and headed off to this new destination. Two-Bit just looked at me.

"Ever get the feeling if they sneezed and shit at the same time, they wouldn't know what to wipe first?"

I laughed and shook my head at him, but I understood his meaning. It was too damn early in the morning for this game of chase.

However, the planes flying above us headed in the same direction I was going was a good sign. We arrived at this base, went through a similar ID check and was waved in. I found the airport, parked, and we made our way inside. It was early still, about two in the morning. I checked with some receptionist person to verify the flight, and she looked at me sort of funny like.

"You can wait with the rest of the families over in Terminal B."

"Come on, Two-Bit." He had found some blond service woman in uniform carting a dolly of boxes, and was trying to catch her attention. Last thing I needed was him getting us arrested. "Keep your friggin' hormones in check while we're here, _got me_?"

"Awww, Darry, I ain't had me a woman in uniform yet!"

"And you ain't gonna get one now, okay? Come on, man, remember what we're here for."

"Killjoy!"

"Hormonal incompetent!"

Our childish banter went on for a few more minutes as we walked to Terminal B, then I think we made a mistake somewhere. There were a few other families here, but they were very somber. Many of the women dressed in black and some of the men had suits, others had nice button up shirts with slacks. Two-Bit and I were dressed in comfortable shirts and jeans. I motioned for him to follow me to some seats far away from the others, and wondered what I had gotten us into now.

"Uh, Darry, get the feeling we were left out of the message?"

"Two-Bit, we've had the wrong message for the last five months." Still, I got up and checked with another flight receptionist, who verified this is where the inbound flight 0616 from Vietnam, is due to arrive ahead of schedule at 0630. It was early, but we still had almost four hours to go before it got here. I bought us some coffee and doughnuts and we settled in for the wait.

XXX

"Hey, Steve, help me up, will ya?"

Soda was having a heck of a time with this litter he was laying on. It was padded a bit, but not enough to be comfortable on. The medic saw us and came over.

"Private Curtis, what's the problem?"

"Just got to use the on-board facilities again."

I don't know if the medic noticed, but I did. He was wincing in pain and sweating up a storm. He'd looked like shit for the last few hours, getting steadily worse as the flight went on.

"Here," she handed him a specimen jar. "I understand you're a medic, too, so you know the drill. Fill the cup, the rest you can flush."

I waited outside the door while Soda took care of business. Finally, he came out holding the cup half filled with very dark, tea colored piss. After hearing about pee constantly for the last two weeks, I knew this wasn't the right color, and Soda looked like he was gonna faint.

"Come on, buddy." I grabbed him under the arms just before he started to buckle. The medic took the jar and sat it on a tray and we got him back to his litter and laid him down. She got her kit of stuff, and another medic soon came over and joined in. One took his blood pressure and pulse, another checked his temperature. Then the flight nurse came over.

They conferred and the next thing I knew, they moved Soda to a private area of the plane. I followed behind them, out of the way. Before I knew it, one stripped him of his clothes, another put a new IV in his arm. When that was done, they pulled out a new Foley Catheter kit and inserted it into Soda's personal property. He was so out of it, he didn't even flinch.

"Hey, what's going on with Soda... Private Curtis?" I had been standing off to the side, watching everything and being ignored by all.

The nurse looked over at me and her expression said she was going to tell me off, but Soda, barely awake, nodded at her to tell me what I wanted to know.

"He's got a fever and his urine is much too dark. I'm going to give him fluids and antibiotics to try to stop whatever is wrong. The catheter is so we can monitor his output. It is all I can do until we land, perhaps five hours from now.

"Is he going to lose his kidney?"

"I don't know, but we can't operate here if the kidney dies."

I looked down into the face of my best friend. He was pale, sweat was beading up on his skin and he had passed out again. Oh shit, Soda, you got to fight this. I just didn't know if he had any strength left.

XXX

There was some prior confusion as to what a "litter" is, it is a military term for stretcher. Sorry for the confusion. Medivac flights are not like regular planes, they have seats that can accommodate regular seated passengers as well as those who have to stay lying down. They are staffed with medical people, not stewardesses handing out soda and pretzels during the in flight movie.

Thanks to everyone reading...let me know how you are liking the story!


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Remembrances

I had spent the better part of the day traipsing about town, buying some grocery that I hoped I'd be able to eat, cleaning supplies and other odds and ends that I figured I'd need. I got a haircut, finally removing any trace of the long hair I once had and bought myself some jeans that actually fit my frame.

Somewhere in the shopping, I'd happened upon a set of silver colored frames. They weren't fancy and they weren't real silver, but they would do nicely. I also picked up a pecan colored wood frame for Soda's picture and a black frame for the group shot I still had hidden in my bag back at the apartment.

I put the packet for Mrs. Waters in the mail this morning while buying stamps, and had stopped by the library to borrow some math and science textbooks so I could study. Passing that GED was vital.

In the real world, I was only a 16 year old high school junior, but I had always taken advanced classes. It wasn't easy being the only greaser in a class filled with soc's, no one to talk to or buddy with... and they were all older than me. Having lab assignments where I was supposed to have a partner was foolish. I worked alone, my teachers having given up trying to force the issue. I did better alone, I had to. There was no one I could ask questions to except the teachers, so I either fully understood the assignment or I bombed it, and Darry would skin me for bad grades.

After a few hours of math and science review, I had a headache and took some aspirin. Finally I took out the pictures I'd been carrying with me in my bag. I know Darry would be mad at my taking them, but he had a house full of scrapbooks and photographs to look at. These four pictures were all I'd kept of my old life, my only connection to the family I had lost – one person at a time.

I took the group shot I loved so much, framed it and put it by my bed. There they all were, most of them gone now. Now I could see them all every morning when I'd wake up and end my days with their image in my eyes. Happier times, when we were all together. Those days were gone forever. I hid the Army letter behind this picture. It fit in the frame like a glove, so it was sandwiched between the picture and the cardboard backing of the frame. I didn't want to see it, I didn't want to read it, but for some reason I _wanted_ to have it. Proof of the highest cruelty the country could bestow on us... on me... hidden behind everyone I had loved and lost.

I framed my mothers photo next. It was hard trying to remember her. All the photos were black and white, but I remember her hair was blond with a subtle red tint to it – a cross between Soda's and mine, only mine was much darker, getting the brown tint from dad. Her eyes were blue, like Darry's, but clearer.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying to remember more. It's sad that I don't remember much, she and dad were killed when I was only 13 and I would have thought I could remember more. The brakes had failed on their car and they were hit by a train at a crossing, both died instantly. My memories are more like snip-its of information, not full length remembrances.

Suddenly I remembered how she used to hold my hand when I walked, and hold me tight when I was scared, wrapping her arms around me. Then suddenly, her voice came alive in my brain, and I could hear her comforting words in my mind just as they used to surround me back then, when I was little.

"It's okay, my little colt. Mommy's here, no one will hurt you." She'd say it over and over when I was little, rocking me in her arms and holding me tight until what ever had frightened me went away.

I wished I could be her little colt again. I had a sudden desire to feel protected, to have someone's arms holding me, comforting me, telling me everything was okay again. I stood there a moment, caught up in that feeling, then shook my head and moved on to dad's picture.

Oh dad... I wish I had your strength. You gave it all to Darry, I wish you had left some for me. I don't even know if I made you proud. Darry did, we all knew that. Your eyes always beamed with pride at anything he or Soda did. You and Darry were always out playing football together or working with Soda on the car, showing him the engine and the belts and how it all worked together. Not much else was left for me. You talked with Darry and Soda all afternoon and would just grin at me, passing by me at the piano as you would come in at the end of the day, my brothers prancing about at your side. I _needed _you too, did you even know that? I was your son too. You left me out of your life. Now there's no chance for us.

Oh dad, I know I've made a mess of things, but I'll fix it. I was the one holding your star player back, but Darry's got the money now, he'll go on to college and _be_ something, just like you wanted him to. I know I was the one keeping Darry from achieving all you set out for him, but I'm not in his way anymore.

I'll make it on my own. I never really fit in anyway. I've always been _the outsider_ in the family, even in the gang. Now the gang has fallen apart and Soda has drifted off to an eternal sleep. I am alone. Somehow I'll make it. Someday I'll find a way to make you proud of me, too. I wiped my eyes and put his framed picture next to mom's on an empty shelf on the bookcase.

I looked at Soda's picture and put it in its frame. My heart was too heavy to try to think of him. I placed it with mom and dad's pictures on the bookshelf. He's with them now, in Heaven and on earth as Darry should have laid him to rest by mom and dad by now in the cemetery outside of town. I hoped he put a yellow rose on Soda's grave for me, as it is what I would have done if I had been there, if I had been able to do anything at all. Here I am so far away and am falling apart at the mere thought of them. At least they are all together now, Mom, Dad and Soda. Oh damn! My tears were rolling now and I couldn't stop them. My head was pounding at my temples and from experience, I knew sleep was the only thing to take away the agony if the aspirin didn't work.

I turned off the lights and curled into a ball under the covers on the bed, wishing I had Soda next to me again. I closed my eyes and thought really hard about him, finally I saw his smile in my dreams and I relaxed. God, Soda, I miss you.

XXX

It's short, but packed full of emotion. Hope you like it.


	22. Chapter 22

To all of you who have read this for so long waiting for a reunion, I hope this chapter brings you a small amount of joy.

To all those serving in our Armed Forces, Semper Fi! Come home safe!

Chapter 22

Flags of Honor

The hours on the clock dragged by slowly. Every tick and every tock of the second hand sweeping by numbers in slow circles round and round, never ceasing in their task. Two-Bit was asleep in his chair, his light breathing rhythmically interfacing with time. I could not sleep. My brain would not shut down. When I wasn't thinking of how Soda was – being injured and so far from my reach, unable to do anything for him, I thought of Ponyboy, unsure how close or how far away he was.

How had he gotten to Nevada? It wasn't by legal means, I'm sure of that. A car, bus, train or plane ticket costs money. Even if he has money now, and I am pretty sure he has, he didn't when he left. I didn't have that kind of dough for him to take - no one in our town had that type of stash sitting around, and even if he saved every last penny from any allowance our parents had given him, it still wouldn't have been enough for a ticket to the zoo, let alone a ride out of town.

Besides that, every greaser in town knows he's missing again and no one has come forth to admit to seeing him leave or helping him out of town. So he had to have hitched a ride somehow. But from whom? Anyone who knows us, and that's quite a few extra people thanks to the unwanted notoriety Ponyboy's last adventures gave us, knows he has no business leaving town again. And yet, he was gone. From that point I lose him until he's at that hotel, then he's gone again, totally off the radar. Oh, where are the other clues? There has to be more than this!

More people are showing up, it's almost six in the morning and the plane will be here soon. What I still don't get is all these people are dressed rather formally. I don't understand it. They were quite subdued, not happy that their loved ones are finally returning. If I weren't so exhausted from the ride down and staying up all night...my thoughts would have been a little sharper.

"Darry, what time is it?" Two-Bit cocked an eye open and stretched.

"Ten till six. Wake up, the plane will be here soon."

"Man, you sure we're at the right terminal?" He was looking around at the people milling about the place. "These folks are dressed for a funeral."

Suddenly I realize he's right, they are. Man, how could I have been that stupid, that blind to not see it. Too late now, from out of the window I can see a small blip in the horizon. It's Soda's plane.

"Come on, Two-Bit! Soda's flight is almost here!" I nearly drag him out of his chair and out the door to the patio overhang to watch the plane land. The cool air wakes him up fast but what I see leaves me sobered up and stunned, the joy of the moment stripped away.

Below us, under the overhang are twenty six hearses, all lined up, waiting for riders who will never walk the earth again.

"Uh, Darry, are those what I think they are?"

"Yeah, Two-Bit, they are."

The plane landed and weaved its way up the path to stop in front of us on the tarmac below. From our vantage point, we could see everything, but no one saw us. An honor guard appeared and the rear cargo hold of the plane opened up to reveal multiple rows of flag draped caskets.

They were each carried out and down the the ramp of the plane by eight uniformed soldiers, from all branches of service, four on each side, their uniforms impeccable, creases tight, hats held steady on their heads, shoes shined to a mirror finish. Silently, the caskets were each placed in an awaiting hearse, bound for a destination I didn't know, nor did I want to find out. Behind me, I could hear the quiet sobbing of families waiting for the bodies of these brave souls to come home. This was their final flight. It occurred to me that I had come within a whisper of being one of these people and I'm not sure I could have handled it with as much grace as they had.

"I wonder," said Two-Bit barely above a whisper, "if the rest of the men on board knew what they flew home with below them."

They didn't.

XXX

"Soda, hey buddy, wake up. We're going to be landing soon."

His face was still pale and sweat still beaded up on him, but the flight nurse said his temperature had gone down some and I had noticed his urine wasn't such an ugly color anymore. I still had hope that his kidney wasn't shutting down, but I was no doc. If he were a car, I could flip the hood, tinker around and _fix_ it, but the machinery of the human kind was beyond my knowledge. I looked back at the nurse again, worry plastered all over my face. She smiled over at me.

"You must be a very good friend to stay with him like this."

"We've been buddies since grade school. I know everything about his life and he knows mine as well. I'd do anything for this guy, and I'm sure he'd do the same for me."

"I believe it. I've been on many of these medivac flights, and I've seen countless friendships between soldiers, but none have demonstrated what you have done for him. I think he's going to be okay, but the doctors at Ft. Sam will know more. Why don't you go back to your seat now, we're going to be landing soon."

"I'd rather stay here with him. I've been by his side since he was shot, I promise I won't make no trouble for you." Being separated this close to being home was not on my plans.

She hesitated, then gave in. "Okay, but buckle your belt. It gets bumpier back here than it does out in the regular seating area.

Steve did as the nurse instructed, and a few minutes later felt the sudden jarring of the planes wheels against the pavement below. The sudden deceleration made Soda wince again and he squeezed Steve's hand. The pain medicine the nurse had given him hours ago was wearing off.

"It's okay, Soda, I'm here. We made it home. We're back on good ol' American dirt!"

All the planes exits were kept sealed for an unusual amount of time, but Soda, who was barely conscious, and Steve, who hadn't flown enough to notice the delay, didn't care. He used the time to get his and Soda's bags ready, then head back to sit by Soda again.

Eventually, the doors opened and the walkers were allowed off, followed by those needing assistance with canes or crutches. Finally the six soldiers on litters were hoisted up and began the procession off the plane. Steve stayed by Soda's side the whole time.

The sun had been up maybe an hour, but Steve recognized the two guys standing fifty feet or so away as if the brightest of light shown down around them. Both Darry and Two-Bit rushed over to them, Two-Bit tackling Steve in a bear hug, then gazed down at Soda. The medics, realizing these men were family members to these soldiers, put Soda's litter down on a waiting gurney to give the family a moment. They could afford that small space of time while getting the other injured soldiers onto buses and waiting ambulances for the ride to the hospital. They were human too, with families that cared just as much.

Darry wiped away the sweat from Soda's forehead and bent down close, softly saying his name.

"Soda? Sodapop, baby... it's Darry. Open your eyes."

This gentle nudge caused a stir in the younger Curtis's countenance. His lids cracked slightly and his face glowed with weary happiness.

"My God, Darry, is it you? Is it really you?"

"Yeah, Pepsi, it's me. I love you, kid. You're gonna be okay."

"Where's Ponyboy?" Soda had glanced around, but was unable to see his younger brother anywhere.

XXX

There were two people, not three who should have been there. The youngest was missing. The uneasiness crept up in me again. Two-Bit slammed into me almost full speed and with all his strength, ignoring the fact that I had a cane in my hand. I was not up for such antics, and if I weren't in uniform surrounded by all sorts of people who would give me hell for it, I'd have beaten him with it.

Instead, I grabbed Two-Bit by the arm and dragged him a few yards away, ignoring his gleeful cries of "Welcome Home!".

"Okay, I know somethings wrong. Out with it, Two-Bit, where the _hell _is Ponyboy?"

Two-Bit looked perplexed. Darry told him not to tell Soda, but he didn't say anything about Steve. He lowered his voice and stood toe to toe with his friend.

"Pony's been missing for over five weeks."

My eyes darted between Two-Bit and Darry and then down to Soda.

"How the _fuck _do you lose a sixteen year old kid, Two-Bit?"

"Shhhhhhh! Darry wants to tell Soda himself...."

"Don't you fucking shhhh me, man! What the hell happened?"

"Pony got the death notice in the mail and ran off...."

"_What_ death notice?"

"The Army sent a letter saying Soda was 'killed in action'. Pony was alone when he got it and took off. We haven't seen him since, but somehow he got to Nevada....."

"What do you mean he was _alone_? Weren't you supposed to be _watching _him?"

"Are you gonna let me finish a _sentence_? Look, **damn it!** I was at work and he wouldn't wait for me after school anymore. He didn't want to talk to me, he shut down, shut me out. Yeah, I screwed up some, but _neither _of us could watch him twenty four hours a day...."

I turned and walked off toward Darry, but Two-Bit ran after me, grabbing me by my upper arm and forcibly turning me to face him again.

"Wait! Damn you, Steve!" Two-Bit hissed at me. "This is something_ Darry _has to do! _He_ has to tell him. Not you, not me! It's hard enough it being what it is, don't make this harder for both of them!"

It made me stop cold. Two-Bit had given it to me straight. I was no longer Soda's protector. Darry was there at Soda's side, he had taken over. He was in charge again. I did what I planned to do, return Soda to his family. I had to step back again and let the natural order of things resume. I shook my head and turned back to Two-Bit.

"_Nevada_? What the hell is he doing in Nevada?"

A big broad smile instantly popped on Two-Bit's face.

"Winning!"

XXX

This story has nothing to do with the current state of our military, it's a reflection of events that happened in any given day in Vietnam. Those who have died while in service have my utmost respect, and their families my sincere condolences.

More of the reunion to come!

Reviews, please!


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Finally, the medics stepped in and put an end to the small reunion. They picked up Soda's litter while I stepped aside, not wanting to hinder my brothers care. I didn't get a chance to answer Soda's question, it wouldn't have mattered if I had, he was asleep again.

"Is he gonna be okay?" I asked the medics. They didn't have an answer for me.

"Go to the hospital on Ft. Sam Houston, all the injured are being taken there for evaluation. Those who can be released will be." They made short time placing Soda in an awaiting ambulance while Steve was being ushered onto a bus loaded with others who seemed able to walk on their own. He didn't seem too happy about it, but they didn't give him much of a chance to argue either.

Within minutes, Two-Bit and I were alone again, and we made our way back to the truck for the short ride across the bases to the hospital.

"How was Soda?" Two-Bit had spent the whole time with Steve before they were both taken away.

"I don't know, he looked rough. I thought he'd be in better shape than this. Steve say anything?"

"Nope. He asked where Ponyboy was. I told him the basics and made it clear you wanted to bust the news to Soda."

I steered the truck off one base and later back onto Ft. Sam Houston, the hospital was another few miles down the road. We could see the buses unloading all the walking wounded and medics herding them all into different areas. It was obvious they had practiced this particular dance too many times with too many wounded men over the last few years. How long was this damn war going to go on?

Steve was somewhere in that mix, but we knew he'd find his way to Soda, and that is where we were headed too. At the ER desk, I asked a man in uniform of my brothers' location. He searched chart after chart, repeating the name "Sodapop" like he didn't believe me. Ahh, _thanks mom and dad_, you don't know how much fun this has been for me between all the forms I have had to fill out over the years for both my brothers, and the looks I have gotten from all the people reading those forms. Finally, he found it, and we were sent to Urology.

Winding our way up and down confusing corridors and hallways, we finally arrived at the door of that particular clinic. "Private Sodapop Curtis, please," I stated to the lady at the desk.

She looked at her papers and started to lead us to a room in the back, then looked over at Two-Bit and said, "family only." Two Bit understood and retreated back to the vending machines. I entered and saw my brother lying on a table, several IVs hanging above him dripping liquid medicine into tubes that flowed directly into my brothers veins.

"Soda?" My voice was rough, unsure what to do. I stepped to Soda's side and picked up his hand, holding it. It was warm and limp, but as he started to waken his fingers curled around my own calloused hand and held me back.

"Darry?" Soda stirred, opening his eyes.

"Hey, Pepsi. How ya feeling?"

"Hurts to piss. Darry, where's Pony?"

This question would not go unanswered. I took a breath and swallowed hard, and held his hand in both of mine.

"Soda, we got a letter saying you didn't make it, that you were dead. I wasn't home when it arrived, but Ponyboy was. Later I came home from work and Ponyboy was gone. I've been looking for him...." I couldn't help it, a few tears fell from my eyes but I managed to keep my voice strong, at least for a moment longer. It, too, would fail soon. Soda's eyes also became red and his face flushed.

"Pony ran away?" Soda's voice was surprisingly strong for someone so weak

"Yes, Soda, Pony ran away." That was it, my voice faded into a whisper.

"How long has he been gone?" Anger was beginning to boil in his eyes.

"Five weeks now."

"Five weeks! You've heard _nothing_ from him in all this time?" His voice found strength his body didn't have.

"I received a letter from him postmarked from Nevada, but no return address was on it."

Soda pulled his hand free from mine and struggled to sit up. "What the _**fuck**_ are you doing here then?" He was livid for someone so sick. I was speechless.

"I came to see you, Soda. I had to explain this to you in person. I couldn't let you get this news alone, not after what happened with Ponyboy...."

"All the while, Ponyboy's in Nevada! Jesus Christ, Darry!" He was struggling to sit up, but wasn't quite able to. "You know where I am, and I know how to get my ass home. You should be in Nevada looking for _him _before his trail gets cold! We almost lost him before, now it's happening all over again?!" He looked me square in the eyes. "You should be out there, looking for him!" He slumped back on the table, eyes filled with tears. The door opened and Two-Bit slunk inside.

"Hey, Soda, I could hear your happy voice all the way out there. You spend any time with the Navy folks, cause you're cussin' like a sailor!"

"And where the _hell _were you? I asked you to look out for him, between the two of you, how could you let a sixteen year old kid just disa-fucking-pear?" Two-Bits face paled considerably. He had never seen his friend this furious before, especially at him.

"Soda, stop it!" My voice was commanding again. "This wasn't Two-Bits fault, and you know it. You're angry at me, don't take it out on Two-Bit. He's been far more help than you realize."

Just then we were joined by the doctor, who looked over our small group assembled in the room.

"Private Curtis, who are these people?"

"My family, sir, just my family."

"Looks like your kidney will be okay, but we're going to keep you here for a few more days to give you plenty of fluids and medicine just to make sure. Got to wake that kidney back up. You should be able to go home by the weekend to await your military discharge in the comfort of your own home."

"Are his kidney's okay?" I wanted to know, and didn't want any BS sent my way. I flexed my muscles, but I really don't think it had any affect on the guy. He had rows of ribbons on his uniform, and I'm pretty sure I didn't scare him at all. But he did answer me.

"His left one is fine. The right one, the one injured over there, was put into shock during the flight back. The flight team did an excellent job and prevented any lasting damage. What he needs now are fluids, antibiotics and rest." He turned to Soda for the rest of his instructions. "I do want you walking though, a couple times a day, up and down the halls. No more, don't over do it. And yes, it's going to hurt to go to the bathroom for a day or so, but that is due to the catheters, not your kidneys." He stood up and motioned for a medic to come over, then handed Soda's chart to a nurse. "Take care now, I'll check on you later," then he disappeared down the hall. The medic came in with a wheelchair, and I helped him off the table and into it, then the medic wheeled him out the door and down the hall. I was going to follow, but the nurse stepped in front of me, stopping me dead in my tracks.

"He's going to room 311. Give us a few minutes to get him settled, then you can join him."

Two-Bit and I waited for the nurse to disappear, then searched for stairs that would lead us up to his room.

XXX

My heart was heavy. I had given Soda news I had never wanted to give. Anything that caused pain to my brothers was somehow always coming from me. I took a breath and paused on the landing outside the third floor doorway.

"You ain't that out of shape, Darry." Two-Bit looked at me, trying to catch my breath. I wasn't out of shape, my heart just hurt too much.

"I guess I should lay off the snacks, huh?"

We both grinned. Two-Bit know the score. He opened the door and stood aside. "Age before beauty!" He put his hand on my back in support though as I passed ahead of him in the hallways. Good ol' Two-Bit.

The nurses were finishing up with Soda as we entered his room. He no longer had IV bags hanging over him but the ports were still in his arm, and the catheter was gone too. We waited in silence until the nurses were done and the door had closed behind them. Suddenly, Soda was out of bed and at my side, trying to slug me with an upper-cut to my jaw, but his strength wasn't there, and he ended up flailing into my arms instead. I held him as his weakened frame gave way and I gently cradled him to the floor. His fists slowly pelted my chest with ineffective punches while he cursed me quietly. I just held him in my arms, rocking him gently while the anger in him turned into sobs that soaked my shirt. Somewhere in the middle of this I remembered that this is close to what Ponyboy had done to Soda just over five months before.

"Why did you let him leave?" He finally managed to say when the sobbing abated.

"I didn't let him leave, Soda." I whispered to him. "I didn't push him out, and I didn't send him away. The last thing I'd ever want to do is send any of you away. I came home to an empty house. It killed me, Soda. There was nothing I could do. I put the word out, but he vanished. Just simply vanished."

I helped him up. He stood tall and looked at me in the eyes again. His hair was cut into a military flat top, and his frame was leaner than before he left, but his eyes were still dancing. Not quite as lively as before, but the spark was still there. He hugged me, finally, and I hugged him back. I could feel the bandages through his pajamas and let lose my grip, helping him back into bed.

Two-Bit had been watching the whole scene from across the room, frozen in place in the shadow behind the door. Soda held out his hand to his friend, and Two-Bit found he could move his feet again. I watched as they wrapped their arms around each other, neither saying a word for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Two-Bit." Soda looked into his eyes. "I know you did what you could. When Pony gets it in him to do something, he's mighty hard to stop."

Two-Bit choked back a sob, not letting a single tear fall down his face. "It's good to see you too, Soda. I thought we'd lost you. Stupid Army, they can't get anything right!"

Just then, the door burst open, and Steve made his way inside.

XXX

It was a surreal scene in front of me – too long in the making and too damn emotional. Everyone's eyes were red – even Two-Bits. I expected Darry and Soda to have a small bawl session, hell, they had earned that right, but _Two-Bit_??

I made my way across the small room and sat on the end of Soda's bed, holding my cane behind me. I didn't want a pitty party on my behalf.

"So you took a bullet too?" Two-Bit noticed. "Always competing with Soda! Should have known if one got it, the other would too!"

"Steve, how are you?" At least Darry had compassion.

"Hit my artery, but I was too busy keeping ol' Soda there in the here and now to worry about it. Doc fixed it in 'Nam. Got on ugly scar and a small amount of muscle damage, but I'll be fine."

"You saved Soda's life?" Darry was looking at me for a better explanation.

"Yeah. I guess so. You owe me big, buddy." I said, looking at the younger Curtis. Soda just smiled and looked down. Darry moved from his spot next to Soda and over to me.

"Thank you, Steve." He stood there like he wanted to hug me or shake my hand, but we don't do that stuff. God, has everyone gone soft around here already? Geezzz.

"Not a problem, brawny!" Go ahead, deck me again. I dare ya! He just smiled and found a chair in the room, pulled it up and sat down.

Now that we had settled in some, I looked at Darry and asked the question we all had but no one wanted to say.

"Okay, what happened to the kid?"

Darry scrubbed his face, looked at Two-Bit who raised his eyebrows but wouldn't speak. Soda looked worried but not sick. Darry gave a big sigh and started in. He told us about how Ponyboy shut off his emotions, moved out of the room he and Soda shared and had his grades plummet to new lows. If we thought Pony wasn't eating before, it was worse after we left.

When he heard how Pony moved out of the room, Soda's face paled some, but he stayed with us.

"It took a few weeks before his grades went up, and before long he was on the honors lists again. His diet had just barely started to improve, at least his face wasn't so sunken in. He wasn't happy, but he was surviving you both being gone.

"Then one day, I came home from work and the house was empty. His track stuff was dumped on the floor of his room, his clothes gone, his soap, shampoo, toothbrush and paste missing out of the bathroom. Then I noticed mom and dad's pictures were missing out of the frames, your picture was gone from the wall and his coveted group shot of us was gone from its spot. I knew it meant he had run off, but I didn't know _why_ until I found that scrap of envelope from then Army. He took the letter with him. I called the base and the chaplain confirmed you were ….. killed in action. Pony got the letter alone, and did the one thing I feared he'd do, he left.

"Have you heard from him at all?" I didn't know this had already been asked and answered, but I could tell how much it was hurting my buddy to hear it again when it was still so raw. He was leaning back against the pillow, his eyes closed. Darry reached over for his hand and gripped it in his.

"We got a letter postmarked Las Vegas, Nevada a week or so after he left. He didn't put a return address on it. It basically said he couldn't be here without you. He said for me to go back to college and be successful."

Darry wanted to end it there, let it sink in before revealing the rest, but Two-Bit wouldn't let him. "He also sent a little something else, right Darry?"

Obviously, Two-Bit didn't understand the look I saw Darry giving him. Soda had opened his eyes and looked at Darry, confused as well.

"Darry, what else did Pony send?"

Darry looked at all our faces before settling on Soda's.

"Fifty thousand dollars in cash."

Our collective intake of air was audible, and Two-Bit was about to wiggle out of his own skin from excitement.

"Where did the kid get that kind of dough?" I asked, not believing it. I wanted to see it first.

"Fifty grand? You're_ sure _it's real?" Soda looked astonished.

"Oh, it's real alright." Two-Bit was about to piss himself, he was so excited.

"Calm down, Two-Bit. No one is spending a dollar of that money until I find out exactly where it came from and how he got it."

"Oh, Darry! You know how he got it!"

"Two-Bit, shut up." Darry was obviously getting annoyed now. He hadn't slept in over a day and hadn't eaten since that doughnut this morning.

Soda looked at Darry for more, squeezing his brothers hand for encouragement. He needed all the answers he could get.

"He got a fake ID and, best guess I can get is he did a little gambling while in Vegas."

"That or he sold himself! Wonder how much male virgins go for?"

"Two-Bit, shut up!" I was amused that both brothers said this in unison. The idea of their baby brother selling himself to survive was not an idea that set well for either of them. It rather appeared to make them both look sick. Me too now that I think on it. Pony just wasn't that type. The looks on their faces finally put a temporary end to Two-Bits antics.

"The money and his letter are locked up at the house. I also spoke with the receptionist at the hotel he stayed at, she said he was there for four days and left on the fifth day. That's the last I have on him, but as soon as you and Steve are ready and comfortable at home, I'm gonna go to Vegas, to that hotel and see what I can find out.

"I'm so sorry, Soda. But I'll keep looking for him until I find him."

"I can't believe he's gone, Darry. Just..... gone." Soda laid his head back and closed his eyes again. His nose got a little red and Darry got out of his chair to sit closer with him on the bed. He pulled Soda to him and Soda put his arms around Darry. I reached over and tugged on Two-Bit's sleeve, leading him out of the room. There was nothing we could do for either of them right here and now. They needed to find strength in each other.

"We got to find that kid, Two-Bit." I looked at him.

"We will, Steve, somehow."

XXX

Okay!!! Now, folks, I really would love reviews on this. If you haven't reviewed before, please take the time to do so. It means the world to those of us who write this stuff.

To FanFar3, thank you for your PM.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Nightmares

The night had been colder than I expected and I had put an extra blanket on my bed before going to sleep. But I was restless, fitful. In my minds eye I wasn't in Wolf Creek, safe in my apartment. No, it was dark and cold and something evil was near me. Suddenly, I was being pulled away, forced into water, strong arms and hands keeping me under. I couldn't lift myself up, the hands forced me to stay down. I heard voices through the haze, taunting me, "You need a bath, greaser?" "Die you greasy little shit!" "Have a drink, asshole!" I tried to scream against the forces holding me, but I couldn't breath in the air to do so.

Finally, flailing about, tangled hopelessly in the blankets and sheets, I fell out of bed, landing hard on the floor, my face smacking the side of the table on the way down. The sudden pain shooting through my face woke me up, and I lay there, shaking in fear at the nightmare I had had. It wasn't the big one, the one I couldn't remember that left me screaming bloody murder, but I had dreamed this one before, and it terrified me just as much. I hadn't dreamed it in a long time though, not since before Soda left.

Now I was really worried. If the nightmares returned, there would be no one there to help me through them, no one who would even understand them, and I had no other coping mechanism for them. That left me more afraid than the nightmares themselves.

I lifted myself up and went to the bathroom, looking at the fresh cut on my lip and the swelling building up on my cheek. I filled a cloth with ice and applied it to my face, and sat back down in a chair.

I was too afraid to sleep, too tired to stay awake, and in too much pain to think. I picked up some pencils off the table and began to sketch random thoughts from my head.

The angles were the hardest. Too wide and everything looks stretched, too narrow and nothing is in the correct proportion. I shut my eyes and remembered the arc, the length, the colors. I shaded in the power of the eyes, the strength of the body. When at last I put my pencils down, the Bald Eagle was finished, and it looked on paper just as it had soaring over me against that clear crystal blue sky a few weeks ago. I felt better, calmer, less afraid. I looked up, the sun was coming over the horizon into a glorious sunrise of color. I put on my robe and stepped out onto the landing with a cup of cocoa in my hands, enjoying the sunrise. A noise below me a few minutes later interrupted the stillness and I turned my head.

"Good morning, Michael! How are you enjoying the room?"

"Very well, thank you, Mr. Roberts. Good morning to you too, sir!"

"Well, I'm off to work, do you need anything, son?"

I thought about it and came down the steps so I wouldn't have to yell. "I was wondering if a phone line could be installed. I'd pay for it, but I don't want to have to bother you or Mrs. Roberts when I need to make a phone call."

"Heavens, Michael, what happened to you?"

I forgot about my face. "It's nothing, I just fell out of bed by accident. My last bed was a queen, I'm just getting used to the smaller size. I assure you, I'm fine."

Mr. Roberts paused, then nodded. "I'll have the phone company come by this afternoon to install the line, as long as you agree to pay the bill. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Oh, yes, unfortunately, I'm hazard prone, but I'll be fine. Thanks for the phone line."

"Well, I better get to work. Feel free to knock on our door if you need anything." He got in his car while I went back up stairs.

My eagle drawing was one of my better ones. I put a piece of tissue paper over it so it wouldn't smudge and put my pencils and pad away, then got ready for the day. I washed my dishes, made the bed and changed into my running clothes. It was a beautiful morning for a run, and it was something I looked forward to.

I took a six mile run around the town, out into the country where the scenery was beyond beautiful. The rising mountains in the distance made a perfect backdrop for everything good in life. The air was crisp and fresh, and this was truly my favorite part of the day.

I had been running again for over a week. Once I got settled in and had all of my books to study, I found myself restless, needing an outlet for energy that had been bottled up too long. I remembered track was an escape I looked forward to, and even though I had no one to compete against, no class to run with, no coach to guide me and no one to cheer me on, I ran anyway. Up the streets, down the dirt paths, over the hills and around the lake. Until my lungs felt full to bursting and I had to stop. After a bit of walking, I had my second wind and wound my way back into town, past the diner and on back to the apartment, where a hot shower would greet me.

Then I could relax with the textbooks, studying for a few hours over history and science, math and geography. I was expecting Mrs. Waters to return my packet any day now. I rented a post office box to keep my mail private, lest anything revealing about my true age showed up.

It was still on my mind, how I was getting away with this, but I wasn't afraid anymore. If I was sent home, I'd just be sent to the boys home for two more years, then I'd come right back here and pick up where I'd left off. A GED was a GED, regardless of the state that issues it. I was no longer in the running for any awards or scholarships, and I had given up feeling bad about it two weeks ago. It is what it is, my life must go on.

I had looked into local colleges and found one I liked, and it was near here. Pembroke City College, a two year community college that had a pretty good Arts department. I had picked up some brochures on it, and was feeling hopeful. Once I had my GED, I was going to apply for the admissions test and speak to the chair of the Arts department.

Perhaps I was getting ahead of myself, but that was my plan at this point. I didn't know the first thing about college, but considering everything else I had been through in my life, this couldn't be any harder. At least no one would die if this didn't work out. I showered and dressed in clean clothes, then headed off to the post office. Maybe my packet from Mrs. Waters would be in today. I was ready to get going again.

XXX

Time is going to start going by a little faster, hope that is okay with everyone. Pembroke State University is the name of the college I went to, before it changed to UNC at Pembroke. There may be other Pembroke schools out there, but I was not trying to single any particular school out. I just needed a name.

Reviews...please! And thank you for your kind support!


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Truths

The group stayed together on base until Soda was released from the hospital Sunday afternoon. Darry had called his boss and got off for the weekend – it was that or lose Darry altogether. He was one of the best roofers Mr. Bolton had ever had working for him, punctual and thorough in his work, always up for any task given him, and usually finishing most jobs ahead of schedule. So, if Darry needed an extra day or so off, Mr. Bolton had no problem letting him have it. He knew Darry would make it up.

Steve had already been released from the hospital and was waiting for his discharge papers from the Army. It would take a few weeks to process the paperwork, and they told him he could complete the paperwork back in Tulsa.

Soda also could go, but would need to return to the local Veterans Administration hospital for four more months to have his injury looked at even after his Army discharge, and he would be getting a small disability check every month for the rest of his life. It wouldn't be much, but any money coming to him was always welcome.

Happily, Sunday afternoon Soda and Darry climbed in the front of Darry's truck while Two-Bit and Steve hunkered down in the open truck bed. Darry pointed the vehicle north and they all set off for home.

XXX

"How was it over there?" I asked him.

"Harder than I thought it would be."

"Tell me about it, Soda. I don't want you keeping that stuff in."

Soda looked at his brother and smiled, at least this hadn't changed.

"Don't worry, Darry. I ain't like Ponyboy, keeping it all in." He was silent, trying to pull his emotions out. "It was hard, though. People dying around me, torn up and mangled." Soda looked over at me, pausing a moment. My expression had to be reflecting the sobering pain I felt at what he was describing to me.

"But I was able to help some of them, which took away some of the horror I felt at what I was going through. I wasn't there long enough to learn_ who_ they were and the_ families_ they left behind back here... to get to know _them_ before having to tie a tag on their toe. I'm not like I was before I left, I know that much, but I _am_ okay. I really am, Darry, I'm _okay_.

I felt reassured. I couldn't stand the thought of having another brother devastated by death, where nights would continue to be an endless cycle of blood curdling screams and nightmares between the very few hours of real rest the darkness would give.

"How was Ponyboy, before he left? Was he interested in any girls? Going back to the movies?"

I shook my head. "Sodapop, except for school, he rarely left the house. Two-Bit and I both tried to get him to go out, but he wouldn't. If he went anywhere, it was to the library. I stopped that though when I snuck up on him reading newspaper articles on the war instead of perusing the books section like he usually did. And you of all people should know he ain't like Two-Bit, chasing the skirts yet."

"Did he do_ anything_ fun?"

I looked at him. "I would need his definition on what 'fun' means, Soda. If you mean out with friends, movies, dances, eating out or even staying out in the lot way past his curfew just to piss me off, then no.

"I did however, find his scrap book, his artwork – drawings and such." Soda just looked at me, blank. "Did you know he could draw?"

"Darry," he said, in a very exasperated tone, "Pony's been drawing for _years_. Have you_ ever _paid _any_ attention to him?"

"Yeah, Soda, I knew he could sketch, but I'm talking major talent - type stuff."

"He's probably just gotten better at it."

Something told me Soda was in for a surprise at Ponyboy's art work, probably bigger that I was, and I was shocked when I saw it. His lines were clear, the talent obvious. Maybe Ponyboy was hiding his talent from all of us including himself when he put those scrapbooks behind every stick of furniture in the room.

More silence for a while. I looked at Soda's face, he was trying to figure something out in his head, that or he had a headache. His forehead was all scrunched up.

"When are we going to Nevada?" He finally asked.

"Next Friday, after I get off work."

"Awwww...."

"Soda, you heard your doctor. You need to take it easy. Haven't you had enough catheters stuck up in you yet? You go messing up that kidney and you're gonna lose it permanently!"

Soda cringed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Please don't say the 'c' word."

Darry smiled at his younger brother, knowing that memory would settle him down some.

"All right, next Friday, but what do we do until then?"

"You rest, eat and let your hair grow back." I reached over and ruffled that flat-top of his, raising a smile out of him, finally.

"What about his school and Social Services?"

Smile gone again. I took a moment before answering these questions.

"I notified his school and they dropped him from the register." Soda looked devastated, and I shared the feeling. We had worked so hard for the last three years to encourage the best out of him, to stay up on his grades, to fight for every single higher grade point he could get, to be on the radar of colleges for scholarships – academic and athletic, and now it was all for nothing. Now they've dropped him... from school, from track, from everything. Even if he came back next year, (if?), I doubt any college would give him the time of day. He'd be held back, made to repeat the year over again. Soda was still looking at me, chagrined. "He's already been gone a month, Soda, even if he came back today, he'd have to repeat anyway." I just hoped he would return so he could finish with the class behind him.

"And as far as Social Services is concerned," here came the final blow, "he's considered a runaway... again. Being that he's sixteen this time, and this is the second time he's run off, they aren't going to help chase him down like they did before. Not that they really did anything before, either. They filed papers to terminate my guardianship upon his return, but nothing gets processed until he shows back up."

"Terminate your... Darry, we'll lose him!"

"Soda... we'll have to find him first before we need to worry about losing him!"

We sat in silence for a long while after that, until a knock on the glass behind my head signaled someone needed a break. I got off at the next exit, and we all got out for a bite to eat, refuel the truck and stretch our legs.

XXX

I let Two-Bit take the wheel when we were ready to roll out again. I wanted Soda to stay in the front, he wasn't in any shape to be bouncing about in the bed of the truck. "No more than 65, got it, Two-Bit? Remember, we ain't parts back here you're delivering, and you screw up my truck - I'm taking it outa your hide." I handed him my keys as I settled in next to Steve.

"Hell, Darry, this ain't no Mustang..." He shut up when he saw my look.

"Don't worry, Darry, I'm in here, too! I'll make him behave." Soda called out the his open window. The engine came to life, and we rolled on out.

XXX

"How's the roofing business, Darry?" I asked.

"It's been steady. There were some bad storms after you guys left, lots of roofs to repair. Boss wanted me in everyday, but I took a day off every now and then."

I was angry with Darry, but didn't know how to say it without him tossing me over the side of his truck, plowing ahead at what had to be 80 MPH. I swear Two-Bit still has a lead foot, looking through the glass, he and Soda were animated in some conversation of their own. However on this side of the glass, things weren't so amicable, at least not for me. I had to let it out, get it off my chest. I was glad Soda wasn't here to hear me.

"How was Ponyboy dealing with Soda being gone?"

Darry looked at me, eyes confused. "I already told you..."

"No, you told us the basics. Two-Bit told me how he wouldn't even ride home from school with him anymore. Pony would never pull away from Two-Bit – not unless there's no one left for him to depend on." I was being cold, I knew that, but I was pissed too. Besides being the youngest, the kid was also the deepest and most vulnerable. I was never able to deal with someone who needed so much attention, so much approval for every thing he did, but he had lost so much so fast at so young an age and in such tragic ways. I knew he needed help when he was whithering away before Soda or I even left. I tried to tell them, appealed to Darry to see it, but he obviously didn't. Ponyboy didn't have "phases" like other teenagers, he had life altering events.

"He depended on you, Darry. I just want to know what you _did_ for him, to help him deal with this bull shit."

Now Darry sat there perplexed. "Steve, Pony was getting better. I never realized you cared for him this much anyway. But he was dealing with 'this bullshit' as you call it, as well as I could have expected him to. Getting that letter is what set him off. And if I had been home, I would have held him down like an _anchor_ before letting him run away. But I was at work, the bills didn't stop coming after you guys left ya know. Believe it or not, _I do love him_, just as much as Soda. He is my _brother,_ you remember, not just a kid I picked up off the street. Since when have you gone protective over Ponyboy anyway? You never used to be like this."

"Since watching a man in a tree with a rifle take aim on your other brother, firing into his back with a cowards bullet, since holding onto Soda's back as his blood ran through my fingers as my own blood trailed down my leg, and since sitting at his bedside come night and day after he came out of surgery. The _only _thing he lived for, not _me_, not _you_, was_** Ponyboy**_. Telling him he had to stay alive for Ponyboy was what got him to respond to me, to _squeeze_ my hand, to_ take_ a breath, to _**live**_**.** Those two have a connection I'll _never_ understand, but it's what kept him alive. If that means I have to accept the kid more as an equal, then I'll do it. But I wont stand back next time I see a friend in so much pain he'd rather whither away as if_ erasing_ himself off the planet. I'll find him help first."

Talk about hitting Darry where it hurt! That was a one- two punch if ever I had landed one before. Hurt him about as much as when he broke my jaw a few years ago. Both brothers in one answer, how Soda almost died and Ponyboy disappearing in front of us, in front of him!

Aw shit. Darry shifted his gaze out at the passing fields, and pulled his knees up to his chest some, resting his elbows on his knees, feet flat on the truck bed. Was that a tear? Did I actually break the big guy?

"Hey, Darry...oh hell man, I'm sorry." I forgot he had shit to deal with here back at home too.

"You ain't got nothing to be sorry for, Steve. I tried to get Pony to eat even before you both left, and even though it got worse afterward, he turned the corner and was doing better. His grades especially, but he did eat more than he had. I was starting to relax as he and I got into a routine, waiting for the months to pass by and you guys to come home. Then that letter, that _***&^%$* **_letter arrived and destroyed everything. I swear, if I had to bury Ponyboy after having to bury Sodapop like I thought I would have to, my own grave would have been paid for too, because I wouldn't be able to do this anymore!"

I stared at him. The strongest man in the world admitting to me his weakness, his vulnerable side. Darry lived for them both, Soda lived for Ponyboy, Ponyboy lived for Soda. The love that exists for each other were the ties that bind them together, and each feeling the loss of the other had shattered them all apart. Man, if _only_ I had been born in this family, to _experience_ first hand the love they have for each other flowing through their veins. Amazing.

"Steve," Darry had regrouped and was solid again, no trace of him almost breaking evident on his face.

"Yeah, Darry?"

"Thank you, for Sodapop. For bringing him back to me, to us."

I smiled. "That's what I joined up to do, Darry. Working on the birds was just to pass the time!"

Darry looked off at the passing fields. A few minutes later, he cleared his throat and spoke again. "Ya know, Steve, if Ponyboy does call, I know the three words that would get him home faster that anything else."

I thought about it. I love you? Please come home? Fresh chocolate cake? Hookers for free? "What three words, Darry?"

"Soda's not dead."

XXX

Okay. I want lots of reviews..... and don't kill me on my comma's, I already know I fail in that department.


	26. Chapter 26

I don't own anything from _The Outsiders_, SE Hinton deserves all the credit for the wonderful characters she created. Thanks, Mrs. Hinton. I hope I have reflected them well.

Chapter 26

Mrs. Roberts

The envelope was folded over in half in my box, papers signed by Mrs. Waters. I had to force myself to not open the brown wrapper, I didn't want anything blown away by the wind or falling out as I journeyed back home. But I practically ran the whole distance back to my apartment.

"Michael? How are you?" Oh _darn. _While I liked Mr. Roberts fine, his wife was more the busy body type of a woman. I had lived long enough without a mother hovering over me, and even though I would give almost anything to have my own mother back, I knew she was gone and there were no substitutions. I didn't need some other woman trying to step in, and I certainly resented this one. She was pleasant enough, but too inquisitive. She liked to ask me about where I was from, if I had any family.

"Oh, dear! I'm so sorry," she said when I told her my brother had just died in the war. "Please let me know if I can do anything for you. I know the pain you must feel. I lost an uncle in WWII..." and on and on and on she went. Lady, I thought, I could write volumes on pain you cant even fathom to understand. I was a fucking expert on pain and loss. Yet here she was in front of me at the bottom of the steps, holding me hostage with a plate of cookies no less, telling me about how she understood my sorrows. No wonder their daughter went _away_ to college!

"I'm doing great, Mrs. Roberts, but I'm sorry, I don't have time to chat..."

"Well, here, honey, you enjoy these. You could use a bit of fattening up!"

"Thank you, ma'am," I said, taking the plate. It was easier than arguing with her. I went up on the stairs and put the plate by the trash can and sat at the table with the envelope.

I took a deep breath then opened it.

"_Michael, here are the forms I completed with the information you gave me. I hope this allows you to obtain the GED you are working for. Good luck and please let me know if I can do anything else for you. You deserve the best in life, I hope you get it. Always, Carolyn Waters _

I read over each form again, making sure every word, date and fictional fact was as I had stated, then got out the money and the letter requesting the GED exam, and took everything back up the street to the school board office. The same lady was behind the desk when I walked back in, and she had a huge grin on her face when she saw me. I guess not too many people actually follow through on getting the GED around here.

"Hi! Your back, wonderful. Got everything here?"

"Yes ma'am, just like you said to."

She looked through everything quickly, and just beamed at me. "When do you want to test?"

"As soon as I can."

"Okay, we'll give everything a closer look and then call you. What's your phone number?"

I gave her my number, then she told me she'd call in a few days for my test date. I wanted to get it over with, waiting would only tear me up.

XXX

_The alley was dark, no moonlight shone down on the earth. The wind blew faintly around the corners of the building, rustling the dead leaves and scattering the bits of trash on the ground. I could barely see without any type of light – natural or artificial. The street lights were out, bulbs broken long ago by hoods unknown. I wasn't alone in this alley, I knew that. I could feel it. The hair on my neck stood up and my ears strained for the sounds of people I knew were there. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my blade, flicking it open._

"_Hey greaser, feel like tasting some blood tonight?" I heard the thick voice but couldn't find the owner. Behind the voice, I heard at least two others laughing low and steady. They were getting closer, but I couldn't _see_ them. Sweat was making rivers down my back, pooling at the waste line of my jeans. Suddenly, a fist smashed into my temple, and I fell, flinging my blade in all directions against an enemy I couldn't see. I screamed for Darry, for Soda, but they didn't come. Then I was hit on the back of my head ….._

"Owww" I mumbled, pulling my arms free from the covers and rubbing my head where I'd smacked it on the floor, falling out of bed.

The nightstand table was turned over and everything toppled off it. I suppose I'd hit it in my sleep, fighting the enemies I had in my dreams. I righted the table, putting everything where it should be, then made myself something to drink and took an aspirin. Hitting the back of my head like that made me see stars, not a good sensation. I was still a little shaky, but I was calming down. My nightmares came and went and this was the second one this week. They were never the same, but I was always back in Tulsa and always outnumbered by others wanting to hurt me. If this was going to keep up, I was going to have to put pillows around my bed before I got really hurt, I thought to myself, chuckling at my own sick situation.

I picked up my sketch pad and started framing the mountains, the wide open prairie. Drawing took my mind off the nightmares. They were a great contrast, my dreams dark and foreboding, my art vivid and full of strength and hope.

Another sunrise had come by the time I put my pencils down. This drawing had deer over by the pond,just like I saw on my train ride here. I think I captured them well. Satisfied I covered it and put it aside and changed to go run. I hoped to get a call today from the school board, so I planned to get my run done early and sit around studying until the call eventually came. I had put pressure on myself that even Darry hadn't done.

I wondered again about how he was doing. He should have taken his entrance tests by now. I looked at my phone, hesitating. It had been over a month now.... I could just call to let him know I was doing fine, that I loved him and wished him well. It would be fast....

I picked up the phone and slowly dialed the numbers, unsure of what I was doing. First the (1), then the area code...then the prefix....then the last four numbers – but I hesitated on that last number. I couldn't push it. Too long...the phone began to beep really loud and I hung the receiver up.

I thought to myself, _don't do this. Don't open up old wounds. He's better off getting on with his life, and I'm doing okay with mine so far. One day, when I'm able to stand on my own two feet in front of him, then I'll go find him. Anything less would be a failure. Let him have his freedom from me. He deserves it!_

I put the phone back on the counter and pulled on my running jacket. Opening the door, the air was crisp and inviting. I ran off, not thinking twice about it again.

XXX

Reviews please. It's a short chapter, but I had to update everyone on what Pony is doing...he is part of this story too.


	27. Chapter 27

The money returns in this chapter. Please read the note at the end before posting a review about it being too much.

I don't own T**he Outsiders.**

Chapter 27

It was near midnight when I pulled up in front of my house again. The place never looked so good.

"Hey, Soda, wake up... we're home." I shook his arm and he stirred, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He had fallen asleep sometime after my last pit stop, around three hours ago. I noticed he had been quiet for awhile, gazing out at the darkness along the roadside, then I heard his light steady breathing. I was glad he was able to get some rest on this road trip home.

I got out and woke the guys in the back of my truck. I don't remember what time they nodded off either, but two hours ago I checked on them and were both laying down in the bed of the truck, their coats over them for blankets, both out. "Come on fellas, Steve, Two-Bit... we're home." They both sat up, rubbed their eyes and started climbing out of my truck.

I went to the door and unlocked it, turning on the living room lights, bathing the front of the house in a warm familiar glow. Soda came in behind me and just stopped. I had forgotten this would be a shock for him. Some things had not changed in all the time they had been gone, like the location of the furniture and the odds and ends we owned. But other things had changed.

It was quiet.... but not the type of quiet that comes from it being the middle of the night. It was the quiet that comes when people are missing, the shuffle of their feet on the bare floor, the sound of them breathing and mumbling under their breath about stuff. And stuff was missing, obvious stuff. Book bags and textbooks usually left on the coffee table, pencils and papers filled with history reports or math equations surrounding those books. Now the coffee table sat cleared off, sterile almost. Unnatural.

Shoes that usually sat in the corner were absent, a jacket left carelessly on the back of the couch was gone too. These things were glaringly obvious. My house was an old one, needing repair - a new coat of paint and plaster in many spots on all the walls of the house, but nothing made it feel so empty as the feeling that a part of its heart and soul was gone.

Steve stumbled in behind Soda, caught up in it too. I had already come accustomed to this emptiness, but it was fresh for the guys, and the fact that it hurt was plain to see on their faces. Two-Bit had disappeared, I guess he went on to his mom's place.

"Steve, you're welcome to stay as long as you need." I told him. He just nodded and went off to the bathroom.

Soda looked at the piano, the empty silver frames still sitting idle on the top. He made his way down the hall to his bedroom and opened the door, flipped on the switch and just stood there, unable to cross the threshold.

The bed was made, floor cleared of everything, books standing end on end on the bookshelves nearly free of dust, the desk cleared off too. Just the way Ponyboy had left it when he cleaned it over 5 months ago. The only thing out of place was the sketchpad I had left on the bed just before Two-Bit and I went down to get the guys.

Finally he entered and sat on the bed. He picked up the pad and opened it. There, on the first page was one Ponyboy had done of himself, and it was as accurate as any photo he'd ever had taken. He was staring out of the page with a wistful look on his face. Soda's forehead wrinkled up as he gazed on the semi-smiling pencil drawn face of our brother. He went through the pages in the sketch pad, each of us there, on some pages we were together - paired up, on other pages we were alone. Each page drawn out in fine detail, page after page after page.

"You're right, Darry, I didn't know about these," he softly said, finally finishing the sketch-pad with the one of the three of us in it, our hands resting on Ponyboy's shoulders, Soda and I side by side, Pony in front of us.

"He has those sketchbooks hidden everywhere," I told him. "I found some others too. It's a real talent he has, a gift." I didn't know what else to say about it, I was too tired to think at this point. Steve was next to me at the doorway, stony faced. I guess he was too tired to speak either. "Here Steve," I handed him a pillow and blanket from the hall closet and he went on to the couch, asleep I think before he even laid down. I wanted to lay down too, but also wanted everyone bedded down before I quit for the night.

"Soda, you want to sleep in here or in my room?"

"This is fine, Darry. I'm not a guest here, am I?"

"You know better than that, little buddy."

"Then don't treat me like one." Soda lay down on his bed and pulled the covers over himself, still fully dressed. "Turn the light off for me, though, will ya?"

I did, and he lay there alone with his thoughts in the dark. "If you need me, little buddy, just call, okay?"

"I will. Goodnight, Darry... and thanks." His quiet, tired voice came out of the darkness. I went on down to my room. One brother down, one to go.

XXX

This was hard for me to accept. I've been keeping it in since Darry told me four days ago at the hospital about Pony leaving. I haven't really had a minute since to myself the whole time. Darry was at my side, or Two-Bit, or Steve. Thank God for Steve. He knew to keep his distance emotionally but to stay near physically. I couldn't be strong if I was surrounded by people constantly yanking on my already tired heart strings.

But now I was alone in my bed – our bed, and I could think... maybe figure this out. I reached over to his side of the bed, it was cold and empty. The sheets were fresh ones... they didn't even hold his smell. Not even his pillow. I suppose everything had a good scrubbing after I left.

I had heard Steve use the phrase "erased from this world" through my open window on our drive home, and I began to understand what he was saying. I just hoped it wasn't true. How could a brother I love so much who has so much going for him just erase himself from our lives, from the world? Just go away?

I couldn't lay on this bed anymore. I needed to feel him near me, smell him, so I could breath again. This was his home, surely there is something left of him here. I got up and felt my way to the door and as quietly as I could, crept across the hall to Pony's small bedroom, the one he originally abandoned for me then returned to when I abandoned him back.

I shut the door behind me then flicked on the switch. Darry had apparently left it just as Pony had the day he ran off. It was just as he described it to me, track stuff on the floor, closet empty, bed unmade.

I switched on the lamp by the head of the bed, flicked off the overhead light and took off my shirt. I crawled into the bed my brother had last slept in, pulled the covers up and turned out the lamp. Finally I could smell a trace of him again. The smell of his hair on the pillow and his body in the sheets. My tears came, and I hugged the pillow to my face to keep the sobs from escaping the room.

When he left before, he was only 14 years old and not alone. He had Johnny to keep him safe, and Dally knew exactly where he was. I had found Pony's shirt at Bucks where Dally was staying, and even though Dally denied knowing where they were, I knew he did and would keep them safe. It was a hard week for us, and at the time I thought it would be the hardest thing I would ever have to live through. That was nothing compared to this.

He's 16 and alone now. He believes me to be dead and the Army gave him no reason to question it. He's been gone over five weeks on his own, with only a cryptic letter to Darry and a wad of cash sent as if in goodbye. He left no other clues.

I knew in my heart he wouldn't return on his own. He had no reason to. If he didn't return within the first week, he wasn't going to. With a fake ID, he could be anywhere. He was book smart but not really street smart, never paying attention to his surroundings. He hadn't been physically well before leaving either, both Darry and Two-Bit said so. I also doubted he was emotionally well, always being so sensitive.

I could only imagine the horrors of what thugs did to unsuspecting, unprotected teenage boys in dark alleys and abandoned buildings. Living here on the wrong side of the tracks we heard about the evil shit that happens to kids just like that. Pony was a strong fighter for his size, but his weight loss and small stature made him vulnerable and a very easy target. If he had money on him, they would kill him **after **abusing him in every sick possible way to their delight. With only a fake ID on him, we'd never even get notified of his death. Neither the cops nor hospital officials would know where or how to find us. If he was killed, his body would simply go unclaimed then be cremated by state officials, and that goes for any state in the union. We could literally search for years and never know what fate had befallen my brother. Oh God in heaven, mom, dad, … Johnny, Dally... protect him. Keep him safe. Send him home to us, please.

XXX

"Soda, hey Soda, wake up." Darry was shaking my shoulder, pulling me out of the sleep I had finally managed to fall into.

"Whassup, Darry?" I yawned.

"I got to go to work. Look, you take it easy, you hear me. You and Steve. Lay around the house, eat, ... do whatever. Don't forget your medicine, the pill bottles are on the kitchen counter. I'll be back before six tonight. Think you can handle that?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Drive safe." I called to him as he got up. He went to the doorway then turned to look at me, pausing as if wanting to say more, but changed his mind and walked out. I heard the door shut and his truck start, then rolled over to try to get back to sleep. My eyes, however, stayed open and I took in the room. Reality came back, and I sat up.

This was Pony's room. I sat there looking around when Steve appeared in the doorway, stubble on his face and sleep in his eyes.

"So this is the kid's space, huh?"

"Yeah, we used it for storage, 'member?"

"Oh yeah. It's small enough. He trashed it?"

"No," I said smiling. Aside from the track gear on the floor half shoved under the bed, it looked as organized as our old room ever looked on any given day. "It's set up, Ponyboy style."

"Hungry?" Steve asked, grinning.

"Starved." I got up and joined him in the kitchen.

"Eggs, milk..." He sniffed the milk then jerked his head away. "Eww, man, scratch the milk." He dumped the curdled mess down the drain. "Bread and bacon."

"Looks like I need to go shopping." I said, taking the eggs and bacon out and reaching for a frying pan. "Want to go over to the DX later, see about getting our old jobs back?"

"Sure man, that sounds tuff."

After I ate, showered, shaved, and dressed, I got to wondering about the letter and the money. Darry said he put it all in the lock box. I went into his room and got it, taking it out to the kitchen table. Steve joined me.

"Got the key?"

I looked at him and, smiling, reached over in a drawer, pulling out my old switchblade where I had put it for storage while I was gone.

"Hell man, I ain't never needed a key to get in this box. Watch." I slipped my blade in, wiggled it and jerked the blade up suddenly. The lock released, and the box opened up. I closed my blade and Steve looked at me, impressed. I still had some secrets from Darry.

Under our birth certificates, our parents death certificates and wills, I found a crinkled set of envelopes, a letter and five bricks of cash. I took them out and set them on the table.

"Holy shit! He wasn't kidding!" Steve said, eyes open wide.

I read Pony's letter then put it down, heartbroke. That poor soul thinks I am laying six feet under, and it was killing me again. I refocused. This money should have a clue. It has to.

I picked up one of the bricks of cash. The money was straight from the reserve in San Francisco, which came straight from Washington, DC. Each bill in sequence as the bindings had never been broken since being printed. I noticed a very small stamp, just larger than the size of a pencil eraser head superimposed on the stamp the Bureau of Printing and Engraving had placed on the bindings, and made out it's words. Royal Casinos, Las Vegas, Nevada. I checked all five bricks, they all had come from the same reserve and all had the same tiny stamp.

"Steve, did Darry mention the casino Pony got the money from to you?"

"Uh- uh, no. Why?" He put down the letter and looked at me.

"I think I found something he missed... look." I showed him the wrapper, and his eyes squinted.

"Hell, man, how can you see that?"

"I'm desperate. What do you think?"

"Soda," he said after a minute, putting the brick of money down and looking at me, "I think you just found his trail."

XXX

I came in the door and saw a game of cards being played at the table. Soda, Steve and Two-Bit were assembled, and I felt a little amount of relief to see my house busy again. Stew was simmering in the kitchen, and the radio was on – but not loud.

"Hey guys – I'm home."

Shouts of "hey" hollered back to me as I went to put my tool belt away and wash up.

Something was up. Soda had a twinkle in his eye and Steve wouldn't look at me as I sat the pot of stew on the table. They folded up the game and each got a bowl and spoon, then tore open the crackers as we began to dig in.

"Guys – what's going on?"

"Ever heard of Royal Casinos, Darry?" Soda asked me.

"No, why?" Cat and mouse, his favorite game.

"That's where Ponyboy got the dough from."

I looked up. Even Two-Bit was smiling. "How do you know that?" I looked at him in disbelief. He pulled out one of the bricks of money from his back pocket and handed it to me, ten thousand dollars still wrapped up in it's seal. "How did you get the money out? And is it all still here?" For the second question, I looked directly at Two-Bit.

"I'm hurt, Darry! Really! I lift from stores that have too much, not from friends who give you everything they got. Come on, man, you know better!"

I shook my head. "Okay, but how did you get the money out?"

"I have my own key."

I didn't miss the smile Soda was giving Steve. He thinks I don't know about his switchblade trick in the lock, and I'll let him go on thinking he's got one up on me. What ever makes him smile again is fine by me.

"Look, on the wrapper. That tiny stamp says 'Royal Casinos, Las Vegas.' That's where he won the money."

"Or stole it," added Two-Bit. "Or maybe he's dancing for it, ya know in one of those cages, or on a pole, dressed in....."

"Shut up, Two-Bit." We all said together.

I looked closer, how did I not see this?

"It's on all five bricks," Steve put in.

"I called information and got the number for the casino." Soda added. "It's by the phone."

"You didn't call them?" I asked.

"I tried, busy. I didn't want to run the bill up it being long distance, so we got busy cooking."

"Hey, Darry, thanks for letting me stay here and all. I'm gonna go look for a place tomorrow..."

"Can it, Steve. Stay here for now. This place has been too quiet for too long."

"What about Social Services?"

I hadn't told the rest of the guys about Social Services yet. "I don't expect them back around until Ponyboy returns." Soda was the only one who understood, and he looked crestfallen, putting his spoon down and pushing his bowl away. "Soda, remember, first we find him, then I'll counter the guardianship issue."

"Whassup?" Two-Bit looked at us.

"Darry lost his guardianship over Pony. Once Pony comes back, he goes to a boys home."

Both Two-Bit and Steve started to protest, but I held up my hand. "Please, guys, this is a problem so far on the back burner of priority. Lets find him first, then I'll petition the state."

"If they don't give him back to you, then I'll file for guardianship." Soda said, as serious as a heart attack. "I'm 18, they felt I was good enough to go fight a war, it should be good enough for me to take care of my brother. Besides, they owe us."

Soda was getting himself worked up, I could see his eyes start to smolder. "Pepsi, I appreciate that. But lets worry on getting him home first, okay?" Soda as guardian over Ponyboy... what is this world coming to. At least he still had fight in him. What ever it took to keep our little brother close. I loved him for it. "Besides breaking into my lock box, what else did you clowns do today?"

"Bought some grocery. Went over to the DX to get our jobs back..."

"You did _what_?" I looked up. "Soda, your doctor hasn't cleared you for work, and they haven't released _either_ of you from the service yet."

"Darry, don't worry about it." Steve said, taking his empty bowl to the kitchen and returning to his seat. "Boss man said we can come back when ever we want for our old shifts with a pay increase for each of us to boot. Said business sucked with his best mechanic and babe magnet gone. Guess ol' Robert and Sid didn't quite live up to our reputations, heh there, Soda?" Steve shoved Soda playfully.

Soda grinned back at Steve, and they bopped knuckles together over the table. Well, that's good. Soda can recover and I won't need to worry about the bills so much.

With dinner done and the gang settling in the living room, I went to the phone and dialed the number for the Royal Casinos. It rang and rang, finally an answer.

"_Royal Casinos, Susan Speaking."_

"Hi, can I speak to someone in the office, please."

"_Hold on._"

"_Royal Casinos office, Taylor here."_

"Hello, I'm calling concerning someone who won money from your casino a month ago..."

"_If you lost the money, we don't reimburse."_

"No, no. I have the money. I was hoping you can tell me about the winner and how much he won."

"_I don't quite understand you sir."_

"My brother sent me money he said he won. It has your casino stamp on the bindings. I'm trying to find out how much he won, and hopefully be able to find him in the process."

"_All winnings are legit, sir, we check ID's at the door."_

"I realize you do, but somehow he got through. He's only 16. Look, I don't want trouble – I just need to find him."

"_What's the serial number on the bills?"_

I read off numbers on each of the five bricks, and he put me on hold. The gang had been watching me intently, the TV silent for once. Finally he came back on the line.

"_You say he's only 16?"_

"Yes, he's 16. He'll be 17 in September."

"_Damn. Got to fire that bouncer. Look, what's your name?"_

"Darrel Curtis."

"_Mr. Curtis, your brother walked out of here with over $250,000 in cash and another $250,000 payment in a check. The check hasn't been cashed, so we'll put a marker on it. When he tried to cash that check, the bank will release the funds but also notify us. Give me your information and I'll contact you when he cashes it. The check is good for five years, though, so it's up to him on when he needs the money."_

I was stunned. I don't think I've ever seen that much money in my life, and he was out there somewhere in the world with it? I gave him my information and asked him one last question. "What name did he use to get the winnings?"

"_P.M. Curtis. That your brother?"_

"Yeah, that's him. Thanks, Mr. Taylor."

I hung up the phone, and the guys looked like they wanted to pounce on me.

"Half a mil. The kid won half a mil." I rubbed my temples, not able to get my head around such a large figure. I was working my ass off for peanuts as salary, and he goes and wins the mother load before ever working a day in his life.

Jaws dropped simultaneously around the room.

"However, half of it is tied up in a check that he still hasn't cashed yet. When he tries to cash that check, the bank will notify the casino and the casino said they would notify us. It's all they can do. Except for being too young, he won the money legitimately."

"Remind me never to play poker with him again!" Two Bit was awestruck.

XXX

Okay, again...please, I know the amount of money is really huge, and I got the third degree – granted everyone was nice about it, but I got it from every direction – about how it was _too_ much money. Thanks to those who pointed out the legal gambling age is 21, not 18 as I had assumed. But, folks, for the sake of the story, please let it slide. I have a purpose for this money, to be dealt with in later chapters, and I wont go back to change it. If I could change anything, it would be for the length of time our young Golden boy stays gone. Trust me, I desperately want him back too.

Reviews, please.

I AM NOT COMMA FRIENDLY! I ALREADY KNOW THIS!


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Freedom

Another nightmare, another drawing, another run around town.

My head ached from the cycle that was forming. Why was this happening? I wasn't a bad person but my past wouldn't stop following me – even when my present was better, my past wouldn't leave me alone.

While running, I began to think of this as a story, a long drawn out saga of a boy who had been given every hardship life could hand him – tragic loss of parents, thrown into near poverty, saved by the remnants of his family, beaten by his surroundings then destroyed again by war. Escaping from his destiny to start new, fresh, even when that escape was cloaked with lies. But he'd make it, he'd persevere, somehow.

I had to write this story. It was already there in front of me, facing me in the mirror every day. This was just the first time I had realized it was there, waiting on me to find it. This wasn't like the theme I had written two years ago, although it was a part of it.

I changed some names and created a few new characters, and by the time I found myself back at my apartment, my hands burned to write, to put on paper the story that poured from every fiber of my being, like sweat from my own soul.

I didn't notice the hours pass by, the words just kept soaring from my mind into my pen and onto the paper. My nightmares went into print, and they didn't scare me to think of them. My losses burned with the ink on the white lined sheets but the tears didn't flow. Salvation came, an epiphany, a freedom like none I had ever experienced.

Everything I had went into this story, and I titled it "Hot Tulsa Nights." I would still work on it but by the time my hand and arm had cramped to the point I couldn't force another sentence, all my ideas were in print and I could stop without feeling I'd lose something important. I put away the beginnings of my manuscript and leaned back in my chair, satisfied in my work.

I looked at the clock, it was going on three in the afternoon. I never noticed the time go by. My once sweaty clothes had long since dried to my skin and I am sure I reeked from my own body odor, but I never noticed. No hunger pains had interfered with the concentration I had given to my writing. My body senses had shut off to allow my thoughts to flow on paper.

But now, I was aware. Acutely aware. I needed a shower and went to undress. Turning the water on in the bathroom, I glanced at myself in the mirror before the steam made any reflection impossible and I realized something, something that gave me pause. Over a month ago I stood in that hotel in town and saw a thin, pale almost wasted person, searching for familiarity and finding none. I was thin and scrawny with no definition, but now I could see strength, defined lines of muscle had appeared on my growing frame. I stood tall without having to tell myself to do so. I saw hope where there hadn't been any before.

The steam covered the glass then, and I stepped into the shower to wash away the sweat from my skin.

When done with my shower, I toweled off, dressed and strolled into the kitchen to see what I could create from the contents of my fridge. While mixing a little of this with a little of that, the phone began to ring.

"Hello?

"Michael Curtis, please."

"This is he."

"Michael, this is Elane Montgomery from the School Board. Concerning your GED application, would you be able to take your exam this Thursday?"

My test! "Yes ma'am, Thursday is fine. What time?"

"You'll have to be here promptly at eight, and it will go until four in the afternoon. There will be a half hour for lunch and some instruction time. Bring your ID, we'll provide you with everything else. Any questions?"

"No ma'am. Thursday at eight at the school board office. See you there!"

"Thank you, Michael. Bye."

Yes! Thursday was two days away. I turned on the radio, happy at last that my test date had been set. If all went well, I'd have this stalemate in my life over and I could move on. The excitement built within me, a long lost sense of joy I hadn't felt in years.

I went back to making dinner and finished with a flourish. I barely remembered eating as my mind had gone into a million directions. Memories of the past started to break through a barrier I had created so long ago, a barrier that would keep the worst pain I could ever feel from destroying me. Memories of my parents. But oddly enough, I wasn't feeling _pain_. I needed my pencils and my pad, and began again, using my memory as a guide.

Their _livingness _had evaded my memory for so long, held captive behind that barrier. After the funeral I had blocked them out. Whether it was conscious or not, I couldn't allow myself to feel that emotion. To remember them past glimpses at photos was beyond what I was capable of. But photo's were just images of things, differing shades of ink on paper that when finished resembled people. Now I allowed myself to remember the_ person_, the _woman_ and the _man _that made me, who loved me, and whom I now realized I loved back. Torn from them so early, _too_ early. They never had a chance to bring me from childhood to adulthood, to turn me - sculpt me into becoming a man, barely being present for my adolescence. Definitely gone too soon.

Now though the barrier lifted and I could remember each of them, not as I would a picture, two-dimensional, flat and lifeless - but as a person, three dimensional, full of vigor and vitality. It was this that I sketched.

Her reddish blond hair had a light wavy curl to it, that she always kept up in a ponytail because it was so heavy. Her deep blue eyes that glowed when any of us came in the room to steal a hug or a fresh baked cookie. Her nose was small and straight, no bump where the bone met the cartilage. Darry said I had her nose but I wouldn't know. Her lips were a gentle shade of pink, supple, and the ends curled at the ends just like Soda's when she smiled. Her hands and fingers were thin but strong for a lady. Perfect hands for the piano. There was rarely an angry look from her, she was always happy, always smiling. It's how I remember her anyway.

I remembered him too, his angled jaw line and hard set determined eyes – features so distinct on Darry. He also had tanned and creased skin, also caused from years of working outdoors in the sun to build the roads and highways of northeastern Oklahoma.

I remembered how he smiled when he looked at momma, how he wrapped his strong arms around her as they watched us play.

It was harder remembering dad, because he spent so much more time with Darry and Soda, but he was my father and I loved him anyway. I guess I just figured I had plenty of time. Time simply ran out.

But, shaking my head of that sadness, that was how I sketched them. Him standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her, their fingers laced together, his head just above her shoulder, both of them gazing out at us. They were together in life, together in death, and together at rest. As it should be.

Night was falling by the time my pencils had stopped shading in these details. I put tissue paper over my work, closed the pad and went to bed.

It seemed like I had gotten nothing done today. All I did was go for a run, write a story, take a phone call and draw a picture. But these simple events would carry me farther in life that I could ever imagine they would. I slept that night. More soundly than I had in years. No pain from loss that needed comforting, no nightmares to invade my thoughts. I drifted off into the most restful, peaceful slumber I'd experienced since I was thirteen years old, finally free of pain.

XXX

Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!


	29. Chapter 29

Thank you for all my readers and especially the reviewers. Cant believe this is still going strong. I hope you see the irony in this chapter. I want lots of reviews...please (can't believe I'm stooping to begging). Anyway, here goes....

Chapter 29

Las Vegas

XXX

"Welcome to the Four Season's Suites. How many in your party?"

"Two," Darry told her. "Is Kelly here, by chance?" I looked at him. He was up to something, I just didn't know what.

"Yes..." she said, then called behind her into an open back door, "Kelly!"

A moment later a blond twenty something came out. "I'm Kelly, what can I do for you?"

"I'm Darrel Curtis. I called you a few weeks ago concerning my brother Ponyboy... remember?"

She must have. Her color faded and the fake smile on her face waned. Her eyes said TRAPPED, but she recovered and nodded her head. I missed that call, but it had to have been impressive if she's about to lose her lunch from the mere memory of my brother's voice on the phone. I tried to hide my smile, thinking it funny.

"I'd like the same room he stayed in, and I need to see his registration card from that night."

We had driven all night and half the morning to get here to find the casino he gambled in and the hotel he stayed at, hoping someone would remember him and help point the way for us to find him. We left the guys at the house to watch over things.

Kelly came back from the office and handed Darry a fresh registration card. Under it was something she was trying to hide but I don't know from whom. Darry obviously saw it. Her eyes pleaded for an understanding that I didn't get. He filled out the top registration card, paid the room fare and got the key, pocketing the other paper as if nothing was unusual.

"Come on, Soda." He got our bags and ushered me along. Once behind the closed door of the room, he sat on the bed and took the form out of his pocket. I looked at him, confused, and went to his side to see this mysterious piece of paper for myself.

"It's Ponyboy's registration form," he explained. "She checked him in, and I read her the riot act over the phone about him being a minor. Could have cost her her job. Told her I wanted to see this when I came by, glad she remembered."

_P.M. Curtis....Address listed: 912 Sycamore Street, Tulsa, Oklahoma._ Darry looked at me.

"Johnny's address, 'member, Darry?"

"Oh yeah."

I looked at it some more, recognizing his scrawl. He put down all Johnny's information, phone number and everything as his own. There was nothing new from it we could use to find him. We came all this way for nothing.

The room was typical, one queen bed among assorted pieces of typical hotel furniture. I looked in the desk and found stationary and envelopes that matched what he'd mailed to Darry. I put my head down.

"You didn't expect this to be_ that _easy, did you Soda?" Darry was looking at me across the room.

"I was hoping it would be."

Darry came over to me at the desk, rubbing the tension out of my own shoulders for a change.

"Hungry?" He asked.

"Yeah, but I don't want any Vegas crap. Too expensive and too loud."

"I saw a small diner a couple of miles out of town. Lets go there, eat and regroup. Then we'll try the casino.

I nodded my head. This is gonna be a bust, I just know it but I got up and followed him out to the truck.

XXX

"Welcome boys! Sit where you like!"

This place was old, as if time stopped a decade ago but no one thought to tell the occupants. Soda and I slid in a booth while the waitress brought over menu's and glasses of water.

"I'll give you boys time to decide. Just let me know when you're ready!" She smiled at us and went back to the counter.

"Place needs an update, don't ya think, Darry?" Soda was snickering. There was an elderly couple a few rows over, but other than that the place was empty.

"Hush it, Soda." But I agreed. Even the Dingo back home was more up to date than this. Oh well. "We came here for food, not to redecorate. Whacha want?"

"Just a sandwich, you?"

"Same." I motioned for the waitress to come over, she saw me and was at the table an instant later.

"Well, boys, what can I get ya?"

Soda closed his menu, handing it back to her. "Bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich. Toast the bread. Fries on the side. Extra crispy bacon, please, if you got it. Pepsi to drink."

"I'll have a burger, all the trimmings, fries too, and a Pepsi as well. Thanks."

She wasn't writing anything down, but stared at Soda a minute, not moving a muscle, as if frozen. Here we go again, another woman fawning over my brother. He got all the looks, I got all the muscle, but for heavens sake this woman was almost old enough to be our _mother_. A second later she just smiled and went to the kitchen, calling our order back to the cook and putting the menu's back with the others.

I noticed she gave us more than the typical number of glances we usually receive in a diner. I didn't understand why she would be jumpy. If Steve were here, then I could figure it. Steve lives with a permanent pissed off look on his face. Only when you know him do you realize it's his natural look. He ain't pissed at all – usually. The food was ready soon and she brought it to us.

"Where ya from?" She asked, still looking at Soda.

"Oklahoma," Soda responded.

As soon as the word left his mouth, one of the Pepsi's slipped from her hand, splattering all over the table.

"Oh heavens, I'm so sorry, boys!" She pulled out a cloth and mopped up the mess. Once everything was back to normal, she got a fresh Pepsi and brought it out. Now she just looked flustered. Hell, it was just a drink and nothing was ruined, no reason to be so jumpy!

"You okay, ma'am?" I asked her.

"Fine, fine. Y'all out here on business or pleasure?"

"Business. Thanks." I turned back to Soda and watched him break up that bacon, same way Pony did every time he had it, into smaller and smaller pieces. Always bugged me. Don't know where they picked that habit up, but they both did it. "Didn't mom ever tell you not to play with your food?" He just scowled at me and kept right on breaking up the bacon.

Even the waitress was bothered by it. She went behind the counter and then escaped into the back.

"Hope you don't want any more Pepsi, you just scared off the waitress with your antics."

"Hell, Darry, next drink she brings out I might end up wearing it!" He chuckled.

"Okay, where's that casino?"

XXX

We talked, ate, and finally finished eating and the waitress eventually returned to our table.

"Anything else, boys?" She asked. She stared at me intently as if searching my face. To be honest, she was creeping me out. First she burns her retina's oogling Soda like every other teenage girl used to at the DX, then she gives me a stare down. Hope she ain't thinking she's gonna get lucky with one of us, cause she sure as hell ain't my type and I'm pretty sure Soda ain't that desperate either.

"No, I think we're done here. How much we owe ya?"

"$5.50 even."

I pulled out some money and handed it to her. "Keep the change," I called as Soda and I started to leave. Before I could get in the truck, she was at Soda's side with a receipt. I noticed something scrawled on the back in pencil.

"Thanks, ma'am," he said, putting the receipt down on the seat.

I started the engine and drove off back toward Vegas. "Hell, man, you got 40 year old women throwing their phone numbers at you! Have you no shame! What does this one say?"

Soda picked it up and read it out loud. _**"I know what you are searching for. Call me. **__Signed__** Carolyn Waters (###-####)."**_

"Buddy, I don't think she's your type!"

"No kidding! Yikes!" Soda grinned as he bawled up the receipt and tossed it out the window into the arid Nevada landscape.

XXX

We parked the truck back at the hotel and walked over to the Royal Casinos. Soda and I showed our ID's at the door and walked over to the woman in the cashiers cage.

"Is Taylor here?" I asked her. She picked up a phone and spoke to someone on the other end. Soda and I just exchanged glances, and finally a tall guy showed up.

"Hi, I'm Taylor. What can I do for you?"

"I spoke with you on the phone about my sixteen year old brother, Ponyboy. He won money here, I'm just trying to find anything else that may lead me to him."

"Ah yes, Mr. Curtis...why don't you come with me. And you are?" He asked, looking at Soda.

"Sodapop Curtis. Real name. Middle brother. We appreciate your help."

"Not a problem. However, once folks leave here with money we can't chase them down... unless they steal it, and he didn't steal it."

He was leading us back into a far off office where cameras and television screens filled a wall. I'd heard about an "eye in the sky" in casinos, but even I didn't expect this. It was truely impressive.

"I think you might find this interesting," he said as he pushed a button and a grainy image appeared in front of us.

Soda grabbed my arm as we watched our youngest brother on the monitor put in coin after coin until he slid in a dollar, pushed a button and lights started flashing in front of him as money started pouring out.

"That your brother?" asked Taylor.

"Yes," said Soda, stepping closer to the screen as if to touch it.

"When you called, I pulled up the archived footage. I wanted to see who he was, know what he looked like so if he came back, I could keep him out. He must have a very good fake ID, a real convincing one. He sure doesn't look eighteen on this footage.

Soda turned to him, a spark of anger laying below the surface of his face. "He's sixteen."

"I know, Mr. Curtis. I meant nothing bad by it."

Soda turned back to see our brother again. He touched the screen this time, I could tell he wanted to reach into the image and pull him out. I did too, but knew it wouldn't do any good. It was only a television screen, after all.

"Thank you, Taylor, for your help. If you see him or if that check surfaces, please call me as soon as possible."

"I will. Mr. Curtis..." he was talking to Soda, who finally pulled his eyes away and focused on Taylor again. "This town is full of people who dream to hit it big in a short time. Just about all of them go home less than they were when they got here. For whatever reason, call it divine providence if you will, your brother left out of here with a substantial amount of wealth. That's better than luck. Someone up there is looking out for him. I do hope you find him."

Soda looked at him, then held out his hand. "Please call us if you see or hear anything about him." Taylor shook Soda's hand, then shook mine.

"I will."

XXX

One further note...I don't know when casinos started recording people who gamble, but I know they had film then (reference the JFK assasination 1963), so I just needed to have a little creative allowance. I hope this doesn't tick off too many of my readers. Thanks for your understanding.

Reviews...oh please leave reviews!


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Testing

My alarm suddenly started beeping, making me jump, spilling my cocoa on the floor. I put my mug down and flipped off the alarm then cleaned up the spill. I was nervous and I couldn't understand why. For over a month I had been thinking that this_ day_ may not happen, and for the last two days I had been waiting for this_ moment_ to get here. Now that it was here I felt as if I would puke, but all I had on my stomach was this cocoa.

Final exams were _never_ this hard. They were just another test, cumulative over everything the teachers had bored me with for the last nine months of my life. Perhaps it was because this really was a _cumulative_ test, over _everything_ from the last _twelve_ years of a normal school process. A process that I had cheated legally once to make it eleven years, and now was cheating again illegally into ten years.

Did I know enough? Did I study hard enough? Was the last month of my life a total waste of my time? Sweat was rolling down my back and my head was throbbing again. Oh hell, where are my aspirin?

I had been up since before five, unable to sleep. I tossed and turned all night, even before giving up that thought at four. I had hoped some hot cocoa would settle my nerves, but no. Maybe a cigarette? I looked around then slapped myself.

"No, you idiot, you've had enough of that!"

Great, now I was talking to myself. Yeah, I was really ready for higher education! I took a deep breath and tried to calm down, just as I used to before the fights and rumbles of long ago.

We'd line up on one side of the field, they'd line up on the other. If you didn't control yourself you'd be marked and they'd be all over you. It was all about _control_, at least until the punches started flying. Then you could take your nervous energy out on someone's face, side or any other part you chose to whack on.

I guess this test was my own personal rumble and I had to win this battle. My future hinged on it. I had no backup in the wings either. If I didn't pass, I had no contingency plan. Zero. I may as well pack it all up and return to Tulsa.

I shook it off, had to. It was gonna be fine. I had studied, practiced every old test I found in the library. Oh come on clock... move!

Finally time had arrived. I shoved my feet in my shoes, pulled on my coat and gloves and started walking up the road, careful not to slip on the ice that dotted my way.

"Michael!"

I turned around. "Oh hi, Mr. Roberts. Good morning sir!"

"Where you headed, son? It's thirty degrees out here." He looked around. "Haven't got a car yet, huh?"

"Up to town for something, and no sir, no car. But it's fine, I like to walk."

"You want to use my wife's car today? She's not using it – her lady friends are taking her out all day."

"No thanks, I appreciate it, though." I started to leave, but then he got me.

"Do you know how to drive, Michael?"

Oops. Can't say yes, he might ask me to prove it. I paused too long.

"Michael?"

I looked at him. "No sir. My father died before he could teach me, and my brother died too, in Vietnam. I'm happy walking...." He cut me off, coming up to me and putting his firm hand on my shoulder.

"Son, I get a feeling you had a rough start. Sometimes life just hands you a rotten deal. I can't change your past, make right all the wrongs you've faced, but so far, from what I've seen, you've done well. You're a good kid. A good young man. When you get done doing what ever you have to do today, I'll be in the house, come get me and we'll take the Mustang out. I'll teach you how to drive. Now I'm not trying to be your daddy or your brother, but a friend. Okay?"

I was speechless. I hadn't ever had a grown up treat me like this before, like I was worthy of something. At least not from someone I wasn't related to or had grown up with, or a teacher who knew my situation from having to read my file every year as mandated by the state. When those folks would try to help, I always had the feeling it was because my life was the pitiful mess it was and they were feeling sorry for me. The looks they gave me didn't persuade me to think otherwise either. I hated having anyone's pity. Absolutely hated it. Mr. Roberts, however, didn't give me that impression. He just wanted to help me for helps sake. I smiled up at him. "Yes sir, that would be great, as long as it's no trouble."

He smiled back. "If I can teach my daughter to drive, I can teach anyone. It's no trouble, Michael. Glad to help. I'll be here all day, let me know when you're ready."

He turned and went into his house, and I kept on down the street. Looking up, the sun's rays shown down through the clouds like a beacon. I'm sure my dad was up there, somewhere.

XXX

I hurried up the steps to the school board, nervousness returning as I pulled out my ID and handed it to Mrs. Westmoreland, the lady who first gave me the GED packet. I had been in to see her a few times since, getting study guides and other tips on the test. She smiled at me, reassuringly.

"Don't worry, Michael. Just do your best and it will be fine." She checked my name off the list and sent me into the classroom.

There were nine of us here when the door closed. We were seated as far apart as we could be to dissuade cheating.

We filled out the testing form first with names, addresses...the usual crap. Then we were handed the testing books and allowed to begin. It was all multiple choice format, read a piece then pick the best answer, or best of three answer, or no answer fits at all. I thought this was going to be a challenge, guess I was wrong.

I went question by question, down each section I was on. First was science, then math, history, geography and finally English.

We worked on all the subjects, taking a lunch break after the history portion of the test. Food was provided, I think they did that to keep us sequestered like a jury, contained in one space to keep us from running away. Or talking, but that just may have been my observation. Seems no one really had anything to say to anyone. Then lunch was removed, restroom breaks were allowed and then back to finish the last parts of the exam.

I was doing well or at least I thought so. Only geography gave me trouble, but I muddled my way through it. Then later, I began to worry... this is supposed to be a harder test than what it seemed to be. Trick questions! Oh no! I blew it. Times up. I could feel my heart thunking away in my chest as I handed in my exam booklet.

"Michael? What's wrong?" Asked Mrs. Westmoreland after the other eight test takers had left the room. I just didn't have it in me to get up yet.

"I blew it. I know it. The test was too easy, had to have been trick questions."

"There are no 'trick questions,' Michael. Either you knew the answer, or you didn't. The proctors and I are going to go score them now. Usually students come back the next day for the results, but I can see you won't rest until you know. If you want to wait an hour or so, I can let you know how you did today."

My eyes looked at her and I could feel myself nodding. "Yes ma'am, I'll wait."

The proctors and Mrs. Westmoreland went on down the hall with all the testing materials, leaving me alone in that classroom.

The last classroom I had been in was Mrs. Hoskins science class... advanced biology. We were studying the lungs, how gases diffuse across the alveolar surface of the lung by pressure gradients. It wasn't complicated, pressures move from high to low. I had been bored and to keep from falling asleep, I pulled a rubber band from my pocket and shot the eraser off my pencil at the skeleton hanging on a pole in the corner. I had been aiming for its mouth, but missed. I had also been caught doing it.

"Mr. Curtis! Please hand in a paper tomorrow listing all 206 bones in the human body, starting from the frontal bone in the skull to the calcaneus bone in the foot. Have I made myself clear, Mr. Curtis? Mr. Curtis?"

"Mr. Curtis?"

My eyes blinked. "Yes ma'am, sorry... you were saying?" Mrs. Westmoreland was in front of me. I had dozed off. Heavens only knows how long she'd been trying to get my attention.

"I said, congratulations! You passed. You scored a 92%. That's excellent!"

"I passed?" I thought I'd failed. "Really?"

"Really! Your diploma will need to be printed still, they won't be ready for two weeks, but you definitely passed. Here..." She handed me a form to fill out. "Fill this out so we can get your name on your diploma as you want it to appear. Some 'Michael's' want 'Mike', others want 'Michael'. How do you want it?"

I paused, thinking hard on it. This was gonna be tricky. "Can I have it with any name I want on it?"

"Yes, as long as it's your name."

I looked at her and filled out the paper. Handing it back to her, I waited for the inevitable response. She read it and looked up at me.

"_Ponyboy_ Michael Curtis?"

"Yes ma'am. It's what my family called me before they died. I really would love to honor their memory by having it be on my diploma, it would have meant everything to them, and it would mean the world to me too. I'm sure you understand."

She hesitated. I lowered my head a little and blinked a few times, letting those long lashes Soda was always telling me I had do the trick. It worked, she caved.

"Well, alright. It's your diploma. You worked so hard for it, I don't see why not."

"Thank you, thank you so much, Mrs. Westmoreland."

"You're welcome, son. Now, we'll mail you your diploma to your address when it's ready, about two weeks. But, do something for me..."

I looked at her, stopping in my tracks at the door.

"Don't stop here. I can see potential all over you. Go back to school, get your degree. Do something with your life, be somebody good. Make me proud."

"I will, Mrs. Westmoreland. I promise. And thanks!" I practically ran out of the building from sheer joy!

XXX

Mrs. Westmoreland is the name of my 6th grade teacher, who I still write to even though she is long since retired from teaching. Man do I feel old!

Reviews, please! Pretty please with Gold dust all over it!


	31. Chapter 31

Hi everyone. This chapter is going to be a departure of sorts from how I usually write. If you've been reading from the start, I try (although I have slipped at times) to keep it in one particular persons POV, but letting everyone have a shot at it so you can see in their head at their thoughts. I have tried to do the same with this chapter, but cant get it to work. I know there are those of you out there who could do it easily, but it just ain't jelling for me at this juncture. So, this chapter is done without any one particular persons POV. I do hope you will like it anyway. And yes, I really wish Pony would come home too, I miss the guy as much as his family does. Thank you. Calla Lilly Rose

Chapter 31

Awards

"Hey, your back! Find out anything?" Steve greeted Soda and Darry as they came in.

"Not really. Two-Bit get those beer bottles out of my living room! I swear, you better not have had any carnal knowledge in my house while we were gone." Darry said as he disappeared in the back with his bag.

"Any what?" The confused look on Two-Bits face made Soda smile.

"Sex." Soda said simply to him.

"Oh..uh, heh, heh, um, no." Two-Bits face had turned unusually red. He picked up the bottles and put them in the trash. "Well, what did you find out?"

"You guys eating me out of house and home again?" Darry was at the ice-box searching for something besides leftover cake and beer.

"Darry!" Steve yelled at Darry, exasperation in his tone. Darry looked up at them. "What did you find out?"

"Nothing we didn't already know. But the casino had Ponyboy on film and we got to watch him win the money. Said they'd keep an eye out for him. I'm telling you, it was a bust of a trip. I'm tired, I've been driving for the last five hours straight and I want to know where the food is that I stocked in here before Soda and I left. Guys?"

"Sorry, Darry. I'll go shopping in the morning." Two-Bit looked apologetic.

"Don't worry about it. Never mind." Darry gave up, slapping some peanut butter on some bread.

"Hey Soda, you got a package in the mail today." Steve called out, holding the package out for his friend. He was holding one identical to it, also still sealed.

"Who from?" Soda emerged from the bedroom where he was putting his stuff away, and sat at the table next to Steve.

"Uncle Sam, I got one too."

Darry appeared in the room, fear behind his eyes. Not again, he thought silently.

The gang gathered to watch Soda and Steve open their packages. Similar boxes and envelopes fell out.

Steve was the first to open his. In one envelope was his DD 214, his legal binding, you're -out -of- the- service-now paperwork. Done. Finished. Free- man -at -last paperwork. He was discharged. Another envelope had a copy of his medical records, another envelope had a copy of his service records. A short note instructed him to put all these documents in a safe place for future reference.

Soda had the same paperwork. Although he would be allowed medical checkups on his back and kidney for a while yet, he was also given his DD 214, medical and service records, and the note to store all these papers safely was also included.

However, both men had two other boxes included in their packages. Each box measured about eight inches by four inches by an inch thick. They opened the boxes and all four men at the table gazed down at the decorations.

They had each received the Purple Heart, awarded for injury sustained in the line of duty. Steve's leg, which by now had healed, gave him only minor discomfort every now and then. He wasn't even using the cane anymore. It had been stored in the closet for a while now.

Soda's back remained sore and tender, the wound inflicted was located just below the natural waistline of his jeans. He continued to have a bandage put there daily, usually with Darry's help to keep his clothes from irritating it. His kidney was functioning fine as far as he could tell, he had no problems going to the bathroom anymore.

They each still had another box each to open, and these didn't hold just any decorations. Soda opened his to reveal the Bronze Star. A letter from his unit commander accompanied the citation. Soda gave it to Darry to read, not trusting himself to get it right.

_**For Meritorious Service against an armed enemy of the United States of America, risking his own personal safety during repeated heavy combat operations to save the lives of over 142 allied soldiers injured in the line of duty over the course of his three months in action. Soldiers who would not have survived had it not been for the quick action and prompt care delivered by Private First Class Sodapop Patrick Curtis, medic. PFC Curtis exemplifies the true spirit of the United States Army, and is hereby awarded this citation, with all rights and privileges due him.**_

Darry folded the citation and put his hand on Soda's shoulder, unable to speak. Pride and pain mixed together for his younger brother. Proud that he had done such a good job, saved so many other lives... yet pain that it had almost cost Soda his own life. No little trinket that you wear on your shirt, no matter how fancy, can replace a human being, especially one as special as his brother.

Just as everyone was beginning to recover from Soda's Bronze Star, Steve opened his box and found a Silver Star shining up at him. As with Soda's medal, a letter also accompanied Steve's. The paperwork for the citation was filed by Lt. Daniel Howell, the pilot who asked Steve to fly with him that fateful day. It read in part:

_**For Meritorious Service against an armed enemy of the United States of America, filling in the position of door gunner, Private First Class Steven Randle personally ensured the safety of the aircraft, crew and wounded men waiting for transport. Despite receiving severe life threatening injury himself by enemy combatants, PFC Randle also managed to personally save the life of the injured medic in charge of the ground forces that day. PFC Randle exemplifies the true spirit of the United States Army, and is hereby awarded this citation, with all rights and privileges due him.**_

Steve had read the note out loud, and when done looked at Soda, who's own eyes were red and his jaw tight. For once, Steve let down his guard. Neither of them had talked to each other about their experiences that day, and those emotions had stayed bottled up until that citation opened the bottle. He and Soda both got up from their chairs and embraced each other. Soda had never thanked Steve for saving his life, but did so now, through his tears he mumbled the words of everlasting gratitude for the sacrifice Steve made on his behalf.

On Steve's side, he had never, ever been given a medal such as this one. It was is the third highest medal given by the U.S. Army, and it wasn't given lightly. He remembered that big guy over in 'Nam telling him in the hospital that LT had put him in for a medal, but not to expect it. And he hadn't. He did what he had to do to save Soda, and he'd do it again if necessary. But having it be _recognized_ and _awarded _all official like brought out feelings of pride in him that he didn't know he had. Proud that he too had made a difference.

His own father never cared for him, didn't stoop to beating him like Johnny's dad, but made him feel unwanted just the same. He didn't even mail him a single letter the whole time he was gone. But Lt. Howell felt him important enough to receive a _medal._ He had made a difference, and not just to Soda. From the pilots who flew the birds he fixed to the men who were transported by those birds, his work meant something to them too. Steve just realized how important he really was and to how many, and was overwhelmed by it.

"Good job, you guys. Good job." Two-Bit had at last found something appropriate to say.

XXX

Okay, tough to write. Definitely like it in one particular POV. If I messed up, sorry. Hope it was worthy of your time. Please leave reviews.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Living With Loss

Three months had passed since they returned from Las Vegas. The holidays came and went and everyone had been depressed. No one even bothered with tree's or decorations, and their holiday time was spent alone in the subdued quiet of their home, looking at photo albums of family and friends lost to them. It was now the end of February, and the feel of an early spring was coming.

Soda had gone back to the DX along with Steve, and Darry was still working hard in construction. Not a penny of that money Ponyboy sent had been spent, still bound up in the lock box at the bottom of Darry's closet. Everyone filled their days with work, trying to take their minds off the most obvious pain each of them felt, but had grown wary of speaking of.

It wasn't like losing Johnny and Dally. Each of them dealt with that tragic loss in their own way. Two-Bit drank more for a while, then backed off, realizing it wasn't getting him anywhere. He picked up his school studies and eventually graduated, seeing as how he felt Johnny would have thought it tuff.

Steve just worked harder and tried to be better to Evie, realizing the pain Soda felt for Sandy made him appreciate his own woman a little more. Sandy had split the same time all this other shit happened; found herself knocked up but it wasn't Soda's kid. He still didn't know what hurt his friend the most about it, that she cheated on him and got pregnant, or that she left him even though he was willing to accept someone else's bun in her oven.

Soda and Darry didn't really get a chance to deal with Johnny and Dally's loss at all. They had been too wrapped up in helping Ponyboy recover. Recover first from all the physical and mental injuries he sustained - the burns, the concussion and the shock he went through; the delirium that terrorized everyone and the subsequent nightmares that refused to give him a moments rest, to the more lasting injuries. Namely, the depression that hovered behind Ponyboy's eyes every single moment since collapsing on the ground the second Dally's life ended. We all saw it, how he wasn't the same kid he was after that fateful week compared to before, and when he was finally physically recovered enough to go back to school and get on with life, he didn't. Or couldn't. He just sort of stood on the sidelines of life and let it pass him by.

Anyway, this current loss, where Ponyboy had simply disappeared without a trace, was one no one could find closure on. _Where_ was he? _What_ was he doing? Was he _safe_? How could he ignore the pain he must know he was causing Darry to live through, the gang to live through, every day that went by without at least _letting us know_ he was alive and safe, _somewhere_ on the planet?

Steve had decided to put his anger at Ponyboy's selfishness aside until he knew where the kid was, then he'd be mad at him plenty. For now, he just kept trying to find him. Two-Bit too. Using his job, he made contacts with every auto parts store in town, which had contacts across the southwest. Simply put, no one had helped a sixteen year old kid with Ponyboy's description leave, or had seen him since.

Soda was having a heck of a time. His thoughts remained on where his brother could be almost every waking hour of the day. It didn't make work any easier, either. Something else there bothered him too, he was just reluctant to admit it.

XXX

ZT ZT ZT..., ZT ZT ZT ..., ZT ZT ZT

I hit the deck and covered my head, then looked around. I was glad no one had been in the shop, watching me be so stupid. As I lay on the floor trying to get my breathing back in order, I saw Steve's shoes headed in my direction from the garage.

"Hey Soda, whacha doing down there?"

"Dropped my pen. How's the car coming?" I said getting back on my feet.

"It's just a set of tires...balance and align. No biggie. Hey, you okay?"

I guess my color hadn't quite returned to normal. "Yeah, just warm in here." I said trying to smile. "Now that the arctic blast is passing, I think we can cut back on the heat."

"Yeah, don't want the candy to melt, huh?" He said while propping the door open, allowing some cooler air in the shop. He turned and looked at me, I don't think he bought my lame excuse, but he let it slide. "I'll finish this up and we'll get on out of here."

I watched him go as he returned to the compressed air-powered gun we used to get the lug nuts off and on the tires. Its sound eerily reminded me of another time, of another gun. ZT ZT ZT. The last tire was back on and he lowered the car back to the garage floor. I grabbed my thermos and jacket, and waited for him outside.

"Hey, look Soda..." Steve started as we drove up to my house. "I can't hang out at your place tonight. I got a date. I just know you're gonna miss me, but... well, 'duty' calls, ya dig, man?"

I grinned. "Yeah, I remember that 'duty'. You better be careful, Steve." He pulled up to the curb and I got out, waving at him as he drove off.

Going in the house when it was so empty was still something I wasn't quite used to. I went and washed another days worth of oil and grease off me. Staring at the mirror, I shook my head. This wasn't me looking back.

I put on baked chicken for dinner, it would just be me and Darry. I was glad Steve had a date, and Two-Bit was off on another late run to Oklahoma City for his job. I needed to talk to Darry alone. While dinner cooked, I looked at the map we had stuck up on the fridge. I didn't really need to, I had it memorized by now. It would have even impressed Mrs. Rawlings, my old high school geography teacher that I had finally learned the locations of the states.

I set the table and waited in front of the TV, while some silly episode of Bonanza droned on, half watching and half thinking about what I needed to talk to Darry about. Finally I heard our truck pull up, the door shut and his boots stomping up on the porch.

"Hey Soda. Something smells good. Chicken?" He went on to his room, putting his tools away and stripping down. I turned the shower on for him and got him a towel.

"Yeah. How was work?"

"Okay. A few more days on this house and we'll have it done. How was it with you?"

"Good." I went back to the kitchen, got the bird out of the oven and poured the vegetables in a bowl. I waited on Darry at the table, slowly spinning the salt shaker in small circles.

"Soda, something wrong?" Darry put a Pepsi in front of me while popping the lid off one for himself, sitting down in his seat.

"I think my days at the DX are numbered, Darry."

"Something happen at work?"

"I love working on cars, you know that. And no, the boss ain't about to fire me." I could see the look on his face. "I just … I cant take the noises anymore."

Darry's expression was one of confusion and I understood why. You'd have to have been there, in 'Nam, hearing the constant RAT TAT TAT TAT's of rapid gunfire going day and night to get a true understanding of what I felt. I was glad he didn't understand.

"The air guns spook me. Changing tires on a car today, Steve started the damn air gun and I actually hit the deck, looking for the enemy. Steve didn't see me or he'd have been laughing his ass off. But I swear, it sent off a wave of panic in me."

"I doubt he'd have laughed at you, Soda." Darry said quietly.

"Anyway," I said ignoring him, "I was thinking about something but I don't want you to be mad at me."

Darry put his fork down and I could feel him looking at me. "What ever it is, I won't be mad, Soda."

"The doc over in "Nam, the one who took care of my back, said I should become an EMT. Said I had a good knack for taking care of sick folk. Said I made a difference. I'd like to try that." I lifted my eyes from my plate now and looked at my big brother. "But I have to go get my GED first before I can enroll. I know that will be tough, and I ain't book smart like you … and Pony. I'm gonna need your help. But I'd like to try though.

Darry just sat there. If Soda could read his mind, he'd feel the smile that spread across Darry's heart for Soda. Some good had come out of 'Nam after all.

Darry cleared his throat and looked at me, I was searching his face for approval. "Soda," he said, " I think that's a fine idea. I'll be here to help you. You can do this. Now that you have a reason to study, I think you'll do fine."

"I still have a little disability money coming, and I can use the GI Bill too. It will help with the bills."

"Don't worry about the money, Soda. Ponyboy sent the money for school..."

"Pony sent that money for _you_, Darry. I can't take it."

"It doesn't matter. Pony sent the money for_ school, _and if he had known you weren't gone, he never would have left. I think he would be proud of you, wanting you to go back and finish school. You know how it upset him when you dropped out, even if it was for a good reason. No, Pony would want this. He'd be proud of you, Soda, just as I am."

Soda picked up his fork and took a bite of his dinner. "Hard to believe I'm the one going back to get my diploma, and Pony's the one who wont get his."

XXX

Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Please...begging ya, let me know what you think of this story.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

New Beginnings

Darkness surrounded me. I could feel something familiar from it but couldn't remember. Was this an omen of something I should dread, turn from and flee as fast as I could or should I wait for it, what ever it is to materialize out of the darkness. This frightened me. I could hear whispers in the darkness, but not loud enough to perceive if the whispers bode great or terrible things.

I turned to run, fear taking control. I took a step or two away, then faltered. Something was familiar about it but I couldn't put my finger on it. This "thing" that existed in the total blackness had been calling to me, softly, subtly, almost imperceptibly. I feared it with all my being, but couldn't run from it. My body wouldn't let me.

"What? What do you want? Leave me alone!" I called out to it, pleading for peace.

"Ponyboy." I heard it say, softly, calmly to me. I began to shake.

"Who are you?" I cried back. Suddenly a figure stepped gradually, ever so gradually out of the darkness. His features hard to distinguish at first, then becoming clearer the nearer he came. His arms were open and his face smiling. There were no injuries, no harm. His eyes were full of love and a smile spread across his face just as I remembered it.

"Ponyboy. I love you. Come to me, baby. It's safe. You're safe. Come to me."

It was Soda. I tried to run to him, but couldn't. With every step I took forward I felt a force pulling me backward, sucking me away by an invisible presence. No! Damn it, let me go! "Soda, please!" He reached out for me as I called to him but I was pulled further and further away, until he disappeared from my view, and then from my dream.

"Soda!" I cried, sitting up in my bed, hot tears streaming down my face. I was going to get up but thought better of it. I knew the moment I tried to stand I would crumple to the floor. Instead I lay back down, trying to remember his face in my memory of the dream before the dream itself disappeared forever.

Damn, damn, damn! Of all people to die in that war, _why_ did you have to take him? Him!? Hadn't we lost _enough_? My thoughts were angry and cruel, but I was so tired of hurting. I hadn't had a dream like this in months, but when they come, I am always left practically inconsolable.

My diploma stood in a frame next to my parents pictures on the bookshelf where I put it over three months ago. It was now March, leaves were budding on the trees after a long cold winter had come and gone. Mr. Roberts had taught me how to drive in his Mustang, and I thought that had been tuff enough. Dad had taught both Darry and Soda, but used the beaten up family Ford to do it in. It wasn't like I was missing out on some family tradition, even if I were home, dad was still dead so he couldn't teach me anyway. The Ford gone too. The Mustang, however, handled well and Mr. Roberts said I did a great job. He was taking me to get my license this weekend

I had picked up the application for Pembroke City College and filled it out, ready to return it today. If all goes well I can start early, in late May, with the summer session.

To get through the cold days of this past winter, I worked on my manuscript and had it finished. I found the addresses for a few publishing companies and began to consider sending it off. I even did the art work for the cover. It was a switchblade, spotted with blood, one drop dripping down the shank. The handle was simple and black. Where the blade ejects from the handle on either side of the opening are decorative horns. A light shining down on it produces a shadow behind it that takes the shape of a cross.

Crime, pain and redemption, all there on the cover. Another week and I'd be set to send it off. I was expecting a whole lot of rejection letters to come back, but just the thrill of it being a possibility was what made it so much fun, and something I had to look forward to for now.

Finally I got on with my day. I had my run and watched as the world started to come to life again. Birds were starting to return after their long sojourn away from these frigid northern temperatures. Ice was breaking up and melting in the lake. I made my way around the lake and across the landscape, circling back into town again. I had taken this same course for so long I could do it in my sleep, except I would miss the pure splendor of everything around me.

"Hey Michael!" I heard as I made my way toward the diner. I looked over at the waitress standing in the parking lot waving at me as I passed her. "Hey Jean." I sputtered back. She was getting to be a standard fixture on the landscape, like the trees by the lake and the lamppost on the corner. Every morning as I ran by, she was there. I was going to have to change my route if this kept up.

I had made a few friends around town in my daily comings and goings. Mr. George, in the post office, who sells me an occasional stamp or two, Jean the aforementioned waitress at the diner, Mrs. Westmoreland, at the school board office. They were just friends, acquaintances really, but it was nice having someone smile and wave at you, to let you know you were important to someone. It reminded me of Oscar, the waiter over at Jays back home. He always knew I liked Pepsi with my food. No matter what I ate, I always had Pepsi. He stopped asking me what I wanted long ago, just knew and always brought it out.

As I passed by the school, I saw the students warming up and reflected on my own track days. I miss that the most. Being part of a team. Running with school colors showing I was part of something, something besides being a greaser, maybe something above it too. I was daydreaming now as I ran along, and damn near ran straight into their coach.

"Whoa there, son! Hold on a minute... I want to talk to you!"

I stopped and bent over, hands on my knees trying to catch my breath. "I'm... sorry sir... didn't....see you." I sputtered out.

"Haha... that's okay. I'm John Devers, coach here at Wolf Creek High. Say, I've noticed you running every day around town. How far do you go?"

"I don't know, sir. I just go until I quit." I had my breath now, and stood up to talk with him. "Somewhere around eight miles, maybe. I'm Michael, Michael Curtis." He shook my hand.

"Eight miles... that's pretty good. Are you working?"

"No – I..." Hmmm, how do I explain this?

"Well, I could use an assistant. I need someone who could show these kids some inspiration, get them motivated to run. You don't have to be a teacher to be an assistant, just be on time and ready to run everyday. So far you've shown me you can do this. I've been watching you out my window all winter, and if anyone can run through our winters like you do, I could really use you. It's only during track season, now through the end of the school year. Pay isn't the greatest, but would you think it over? I sure could use some help."

Wow. Get paid to do what I do already, and it would keep me busy until school started. "Sounds great. What do I need to do?"

"Bring a photo ID and a copy of your birth certificate to me, and we'll get the paperwork started." He was all smiles. I however, was not.

"I don't have my birth certificate. It was lost some time ago." I lied. I knew Darry kept it in his lock box. But how was I to explain to this man that I was a sixteen year old runaway with a fake ID who won a massive amount of money then earned my GED through false pretenses all in the hopes of going to college. Even in my own head that sounded too weird and twisted to be true.

"Just call the hospital you were born at, ask for the office of Vital Statistics, and have them send you a copy. Shouldn't take longer than a week for it to get here. In the meantime, I can get the rest of the paperwork done.

Why didn't I think of that? Bypass Darry and go straight back to the hospital. "I'll do the best I can, Coach Devers."

"Wonderful. I better get back to my students before they scatter across the field. Come see me when you get that birth certificate, Michael." He trotted off back to the field, and I watched him go. If that's how he runs, it's no wonder he needs help. I shook my head and started off down the street again. Whew, a job – provided I can get that birth certificate. I wondered what other tricks I can pull from my sleeves?

Luck was a lady that didn't want to be tempted too many times and I knew I was about tapped out, but again I thought I just might have the upper hand again. While Darry and Soda both got to come into the world in Oklahoma, I greeted the world out of Independence, Kansas, at Mercy Hospital. I vaguely remembered mom telling me I was early, wasn't due for another few weeks. Both she and Dad felt it safe to take a short trip to see grandma in Independence. Well, no sooner did they arrive at her doorstep did I decide to make my own entrance too. Dad got mom to the local hospital, while my brothers got to spend extra time at grandma's. The rest of the story isn't important, what is important is that my birth certificate would be on file in_ Kansas_, not Oklahoma, where I am sure Social Services would have put a tag on it.

"Mercy Hospital – Vital Statistics office, how may I help you?"

"I need a copy of my birth certificate. How may I get one?"

"Send a paper stating you need a copy with your name, address, date of birth, mother's name at the time you were born and a one dollar processing fee in an envelope, and we'll get it out to you within two business days."

I took their address and thanked them. After writing everything down like she said to, I grabbed a dollar, shoved it all in an envelope and sealed it. Then I grabbed my college application and went to see George at the post office. Time to buy a few more stamps!

Daylight was waning and a night chill began to descend as I walked back to my apartment. I realized I had finally began to call it "my" apartment now. I guess I finally belong here. Home would always be Tulsa, where I grew up and where my brothers are... one at rest, the other hopefully moving on with his own life. But this is where I started to live, and it was home for me too.

XXX

Thank you to all! This was a hard, very hard chapter to write. I hope I have done well. Thanks to all those who have sent reviews...even if you think it doesn't mean much, it does.


	34. Chapter 34

I don't own The Outsiders, characters or plot. Thanks to Susan Hinton for giving us all these things to use though.

Chapter 34

Soda's Struggles

It was a week ago that Soda had asked for my help and permission to get his GED. I was so proud of him. We've held off telling the guys for now, for Soda this is a big step and I'm sure he's terrified that he's making a mistake. Being a mechanic is all I've known him to do. He was pulling anything with an engine apart and putting it back together again since he was old enough to hold a screwdriver, but those medals he earned seemed to convince him that he's capable of more. Now that he's willing to try, I'm gonna do all I can to encourage him on.

He ain't like Ponyboy, those two are worlds apart when it comes to learning. Pony learns by reading, Soda learns by doing. You could show Ponyboy how to bake a chicken but he won't get it until he has a recipe card in front of him. He has to follow the instructions step by step. Soda never uses a recipe, just tosses everything in with assorted seasonings and dinner is done an hour later. However, school is school and book learning is required. It's gonna take all he has to get through this, but I'm sure he can do it. He has a reason to now.

XXX

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm uh, looking to get my GED." I said quietly, trying to keep the embarrassment out of my voice.

"How long have you been out of school?"

"Over two years." Man, had that much time really gone by? I seemed like just last week that I had told Darry that I wasn't going back, that the work was too over my head and we needed the money too badly for me to waste my days in a school house rather than in the gas station where I could bring home something better than D's and F's. I could bring home money. I know now that I had already screwed this up once by dropping out, I didn't want to screw it up again. No telling how many chances in life I was gonna get.

The woman had gone to a back room for a minute then returned with a thick envelope. "Fill all these papers out and return them with the fifty dollar fee. There are three classes for you to attend, and yes, they are required. The dates are in the envelope. Once the packet has been reviewed and we have documentation that you attended the classes, we can schedule your exam. Any questions?"

"No ma'am," I said.

"Are there any study guides or text books he can use to prepare with?" Darry asked suddenly from behind me. He had offered to come with me to the school board office today in case I needed his help, but at the time, I didn't think I'd need help simply getting an application. He had been standing a little distance away, allowing me to handle it, then instictively knew I needed him. Thanks, big brother, I thought. I smiled over at him as if to say it. By his look back at me, he understood.

The woman looked at us, then disappeared to the back again. Another moment passed and she returned, handing me two study guides

"You might find these helpful. There are other guides in the envelope too." She also smiled but it wasn't one of sincerity. No, her smile said _"You're another piece of East Side trash who couldn't learn it the first time it was offered to you, and now you're back to waste societies time again. But here ya go._ "Good luck!" she said.

"Thank you," was all I could say.

As we walked out of the building and down the steps, I looked over at Darry. I was glad he came with me, I never would have thought about study guides and other stuff. "Thanks, Darry." I finally said to him as we neared the truck.

"You're welcome, Soda. But thank me best by studying hard. This is your shot, and I know you can do it."

"I ain't like you or Ponyboy...."

"I didn't say you had to be. Just do the best _you_ can do." We had reached the truck now, but Darry just looked at me over the hood, very serious but not upset, like he wanted to get the message nailed home before moving again. "Study hard, let me know what you don't understand and I'll help you. Don't worry about the test itself yet. Work your way there. Once you're ready, you'll do fine. Now get in, lets get home."

Darry cooked dinner again as I looked through the envelope. It was my night to cook but he let me off the hook. I'd never get my mind on the food to prepare it right. My thoughts stayed on this envelope and the papers it contained. There were lots of forms, an application for the test itself and those class dates. The instructions said applicants who have been out of school longer than two years must attend three classes within two weeks of the test date. The classes cover the five subjects the GED is tested on, namely English, math, science, history and geography. My heart sank. How was I ever gonna get through this? I couldn't get it when I had the regular school year to learn it. I shook my head. Darry must have seen me from the kitchen.

"Soda, don't give up before you even begin." He started taking the papers out of my hands and putting them back in the envelope. Putting the envelope on the counter, he went back to cooking and I put my head down on the table. What was I getting myself into???

XXX

Oh Soda, I sighed thinking to myself, you are making this so hard on yourself. I could see anxiety building up in him to where I'm amazed it didn't pour out his ears. Pure panic was creeping across his face when I decided to step in. I took the papers away because if he tried to figure out that stuff, he'd give up just when he was starting.

I understood the overwhelming sensation legal papers gave you. I had experienced enough anxiety filling out guardianship papers over my brothers before I had gotten so used to it that it became second nature. When you're not used to it, like when you're just starting, you think every misplaced comma is reason for the state to rip from you the only blood you have left. It would definitely keep you awake at night in worry. It was giving Soda the same reaction. Granted, his GED application and Ponyboy and Sodapop's guardianship legalities aren't quite the same, but to Soda, there was no difference.

I had already planned to do all the paperwork for him and just direct him on what to study. That was the main part...getting him to learn what he'd need to pass this test. I didn't want him getting overwhelmed on forms and dates. It would only discourage him. I figured if he could study just one subject each day, over the course of a few weeks he should be ready. I didn't care how many months it took, so long as he didn't give up. I couldn't fail another brother, or let that brother fail himself again.

XXX

"You're doing what?" Steve stared at me, about to fall off the stool he was sitting on while working on the Plymouth.

"I'm going back to get my GED," I repeated.

"Hell, Soda, what for?" he asked me, turning his attention back on the car again.

"Cause, Steve, I need it. Ponyboy would want me to get it. I never should have quit school in the first place. But now I want to try and fix it."

"You're sure? This is what you want to do?"

"Yeah, man. I'm sure. I ain't gonna quit here though, not yet anyway."

Steve just looked at me. "Okay, so lets say you get the GED. We throw you a big party. Then what?"

I took a long drink from the Pepsi I had and looked at Steve point blank. "I go back to school and become an EMT."

He dropped the wrench as he turned to me. "EMT? Wait a second.... That doc in 'Nam put this idea in your head, didn't he?"

I just looked at him. "Steve, I want to try this. I _need _to try this. If it don't work out then it don't work out, but I got to at least _try_."

Steve picked up his wrench and fiddled with the car some more, then he looked back at me again. "When do you start?"

"Darry's been helping me every night now for a week. It's hard, and I'm scared _shitless_ that I'll screw this up, but so far it's going okay." I took another swig from my bottle.

"Soda," he said sighing, "you're a Curtis. Stop sweating it. You're gonna do fine. Just like Darry did, and just like Pony...." his voice trailed off. "You're gonna do fine, Soda." He repeated with finality.

I looked out at the street. The high school kids were approaching in droves, headed down distant streets and toward assorted houses. School had just let out a few minutes ago. Normally I would see his slender frame and reddish brown hair come loping up for a free Pepsi, but not anymore. Oh, Ponyboy, I thought, where are you? I finished my Pepsi, the one I drank for my brother this time everyday, seeing as it was all I could do for him now.

Later that night, I thought about it. We had no leads now to go on. Nothing new from Nevada. Two-Bit's contacts had no information. The Social Services people even quit looking for him. They tagged his files so if he ever tried to get access to his health or school records, or even his sealed court records from two years ago, Social Services would be notified and we could find him. The bad part is he would have to request the information himself, and so far he hasn't.

While getting in bed – his bed, I found I slept better here than in our big empty room, I had wondered at times if he were still alive. My fear that he had been abused and killed in a robbing never totally escaped my thoughts, and it always made me shiver. These were thoughts I didn't share with anyone, let alone Darry. He had enough to worry about and feel guilty over. I know he has guilt, even though he shouldn't. He has felt responsible for anything and everything that has ever happened to Ponyboy since the time our parents died.

Sometimes at night I dream of him. He's far off, lost and trying to find me. Just as I see him and reach out to him, he gets pulled away until he's gone again. I have woken up from that dream to see my own arm extended out into the darkness, reaching out for what isn't there. I don't think he is gone, not from this world anyway. I can still feel him in my heart. He's out there, somewhere. I just wonder how much time will pass before I see him in the _daylight_, with my eyes open wide again, and know for once and for all that this nightmare had_ truly_ ended and we could all wake up together again. Be whole again. How long, Ponyboy, how long until you come back to us?

XXX

My thanks to everyone. The reviews are special, from one and all.


	35. Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

Diamonds In The Sky

My mail box had two pieces of mail in it a week later. One was my birth certificate from Mercy Hospital. I looked at the type set it was in and easily knew I could fix the birth date. With all the typing of my manuscript I had done, I had become quite adapt at erasing certain letters and numbers and replacing them with other characters and no one knowing the difference.

I can't do anything with my first name on it, though. If I erased it off my certificate, the blank space left behind would be way too conspicuous. Besides that, if my parents weren't already gone, it would have killed them to know what I had done. Anyway, I'm proud of that name, _**my **_name. Enough time has passed since I've been here that I'm not worried about it anymore.

Now that I have my birth certificate, I can finally get back with Coach Devers, who's been waiting for me to help him with his track students. I stopped by and saw him earlier this week. He wants me to come in from one to four in the afternoon, that's when the track students are out at practice. There are three classes, one hour each. From what I've seen there are some good runners mixed in, they just need someone who they can compete against, make them want to go faster. I suppose that's what I'm for, to give them that competition. I just hope I can be of some help to the coach. Putting aside my birth certificate, I looked at the other envelope.

The second envelope was large, bulky and had a fancy crest by the return address. It was from Pembroke City College. I could hardly contain myself while opening this envelope. I figured they didn't need a lot of paper to send a rejection letter, but a thick envelope was probably good news. I opened it, barely breathing in the process.

"_**Congratulations on your decision to continue your education at Pembroke City College. It gives us great pleasure to accept your application for the upcoming fall quarter....."**_

"YES!" I screamed aloud, not caring who heard me. I made it. I was accepted into college. I had suffered so long and in so many ways but I had weathered the storm and made it!

The envelope contained all sorts of forms for me to fill out. Financial aid applications (which I would throw out, I was paying for this in cash) and a catalog of classes, majors offered and a letter from a counselor whom I was to go see in order to pick a major and get an advisor for. I wasn't sure what it all meant, but a note said I had an appointment in two weeks from then to get started. I looked at my calender and was on pins and needles again for time to hurry up.

XXX

Due to the fact that I didn't have my birth certificate until now, Mr. Roberts waited an additional weekend to take me to get my drivers license. He was really nice about it, he didn't have to do this – he didn't have to do anything for me, but I sure appreciated his help.

He dropped me off at the office early Saturday morning and I sat there holding my fake ID, my age altered birth certificate, the ten dollar fee and the road sign manual I studied from. Looking around, I began to get a feeling of fear in my veins. I don't know why it didn't dawn on me before, but the drivers license office is adjacent to the police station, the one building I had avoided my whole time here in Wolf Creek.

"Michael Curtis." My name was called. I handed the police officer my identification and the birth certificate. If I had any moment of doubt, any plausible reason to think I would get caught in the lies I was living, this was it. Fear ran through me like ice, and sweat rolled down my back. I was standing in front of a cop in the drivers license office not 30 feet from the police station, handing over falsified materials and swearing they were legitimate. If busted, I didn't know what they would do to me.

She looked at the two documents and then up at me, a confused look on her face.

"Ponyboy?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am. My folks loved to be creative." I smiled, holding in fear as best I could.

She looked at both documents again, unsure.

"Well, which is it? Michael or Ponyboy?"

"'Ponyboy' is my legal first name." I said aloud for the first time in months.

"That's different," she said. "Where you from?"

"Tulsa, Oklahoma." If she had picked up that phone, I was sure I would have fainted. I had already felt my blood draining from my head.

"Well, I hope Wolf Creek has been good to you since you moved here. Look in this viewfinder and read the signs for me."

I took a breath and did as she told me, going through about twenty different signs. Then she handed me a book with numbers made from dots in one color surrounded by dots of another color.

"What numbers do you see?"

I went through a few of those pages, telling her the numbers like she instructed me to do, but I looked up confused when she was done.

"What was that for?" I asked.

"Tests for colorblindness. You're not. Here, take this test to that desk and when you're finished, bring it back If you pass the written test, then you can take the road test. Is your car here?"

Mr. Roberts left the Mustang out at the curb for me. "Yes ma'am."

"Good. Go ahead and take your test. Let me know when you are done."

Fifteen minutes later, I brought back the test and she graded it. I missed two questions but still passed. Next thing I knew, she got her clip board and her hat and off we went to the Mustang. Mr. Roberts was sitting nearby on a bench and held out the keys to me.

"Good luck!" He offered.

Later I pulled back up to the curb and handed him back the keys. The officer said nothing but indicated that we were to go back inside. I followed her, wondering how bad I messed that up.

"Stand here.... ready? Smile..." _Click_. Another ten minutes passed and she handed me my license.

"Watch the crosswalks. Other than that, you did fine. Next time don't look so tense, I thought you were gonna pass out on me for a second when you first came in here. I get that with a lot of kids getting their first license, nothing to be that uptight about. See you again in four years."

She went back to her desk and I stared down at it. I wasn't dreaming, it was real. My first real drivers license, issued by the state of Montana. I hated my picture, but I know most people hate their pictures. Soda did, Darry does. Why should I be any different?

_Ponyboy Michael Curtis_

Wow, it felt good to see my whole name again, and not be worried about it.

I crossed the street to where Mr. Roberts was waiting on the bench by the car. "Well? Michael?" Mr. Roberts called over to me.

I looked over at him, smiling. "I got it!"

"I knew you would! Congratulations!" he said, getting up. "Ready to ride back?"

I looked at him and really wanted to, but felt I needed to do something else instead.

"Mr. Roberts, I appreciate everything you've done for me. Truly I do. I don't know how I can ever repay you. But, if you don't mind, I have some other plans for this evening."

"That's fine, Michael. So you don't need a ride back?"

"No sir, I'm good."

"Okay then, I'll see you later."

He got in his car and drove off, and I headed back out of town on foot.

I had so many thoughts in my head, all screaming to get out. I needed to do something and found myself in a phone booth just under the street lamp, the last bit of civilization before the open prairie beckoned me out of town. Before I thought about it, before I talked myself out of it, I had picked up the receiver and dialed those numbers I had long ago given up as my own. My heart slowed as I heard it ring, and ring again. After an untold number of chances, I gave up and put the receiver back down. I shouldn't have tried this, he was doing what I wanted him to do, probably in class. _Don't do this, Ponyboy_, I said to myself._ Don't screw this up for him. Things aren't that bad_. I left the phone booth and continued on out of town.

I took a path that led me up through the hills to a small clearing. It was a steep climb and took me about an hour to get there. I had found this spot once before, around Christmastime and hadn't been back since. Back then it was snow covered and well below freezing, now it was still cold, but tolerable. It was rocky terrain and my shoes weren't really the best for climbing, but I made it to the top.

I could see the whole town from this perch, and behind me over toward the mountains I could see rolling prairies. It reminded me of a Norman Rockwell painting, so country and quaint. Where Greasers and Soc's and rumbles and even Vietnam didn't exist. There was only natural light and the moon was already visible, along with a few stars. Once the sun set there would be nothing but blackness above me with stars of every size and brilliance scattered across the sky, like diamonds on a piece of black felt, sparkling in the light. I lay down on the soft grass and looked up.

I had a feeling of unsettled peace in my heart, and I didn't know how to calm it. So many things left undone, and I wasn't sure how to right the wrongs, settle my demons without undoing all the things I had accomplished.

I searched out into the heavens and wished for that protective arm that used to lay over me as I struggled to sleep at night. I longed also for the stability and unwaivering guidance that had been provided me, without fail, even when I pushed him away at every turn. I felt ashamed at my own actions, how wrong I was. Even now, poised in a few weeks to take on a new mantle of responsibility, a new turn in life, I felt I was being crushed by the weight of my own successes. I hadn't done enough to earn these rewards, but I couldn't turn back. I wondered what my parents would say, what they would think of their youngest son now.

I hoped I hadn't let them down. They never really told me their plans for me, what they expected from me. It was too early to consider having final words, not when they were so full of life, while my brothers and I were still so young. But I hoped I was doing okay in their eyes, wherever they were.

I had done good so far, I thought. I had finished school and had been accepted to college, gotten my drivers license and a job too. Despite everything, I still felt empty. Like I didn't deserve any of it. "Mom, dad, help me. Now what do I do?" No one was there to hear me, but I still felt the need to say it out loud. "I still need you, I'm only sixteen. I don't know if I'm ready yet." Under this brilliant sky, I felt so small, so insignificant, and in so many ways... so damn lost and alone. I stayed all night out there, not by design but by accident, just as I had fallen asleep in the lot so many times back home. It was cold and I only had my coat for warmth, but I never felt the chill. I fell asleep to the sounds of the breeze on the prairie below me and the owls hooting in the distance.

XXX

My usual request for reviews. Thanks folks!

Calla Lilly

PS, I realize the Montana area probably isn't as warm as I am indicating it to be for my time line, but go with it anyway.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Today was the day, and I could tell he was nervous. I've been preparing him for three months now, twelve whole weeks, and he had already completed his three required classes. Even Two-Bit had encouraged him in his own special alcoholic way. But I could tell he was about to explode with pent up anxiety over this test. I wished I could help him, but he was on his own. He was ready for it, I just wished I could get him to believe it.

His test was this morning at eight, sharp. I took him down to the school board office to drop him off before I went on to work. He would be there all day, getting out sometime around three this afternoon. He approached a lady at the sign in desk, who looked up at him with absolutely no expression on her face. I knew that blank expression, usually given by folks who thought people like us weren't worthy of their time. I wasn't going to have it. Soda worked too hard to be treated this way. Besides working his ass off to learn the stuff for this test, he was a decorated veteran, and I wasn't going to stand by and let some aging soc grandma treat my kid brother this way. I waited off to the side, anticipating the inevitable.

"Your name?"

"Sodapop Curtis."

"No, son, your _real_ name." The lady smirked.

That did it. Before I let him say a word, I came up behind him and pointed down on her roster to his name.

"Sodapop P. Curtis, right there ma'am. It _**is**_ his real name."

She looked at me and I smiled at her, but made sure my ain't -gonna- take- no -shit -attitude came through. She checked his name off and directed him to a class.

He started towards the room but I put my hand on his shoulder before he got too far away. He turned and looked at me.

"You didn't have to do that, ya know." He said quietly, looking back over at the woman.

"Yeah, I did. Hey, little buddy, do your best and don't worry. I'm proud of you, Soda. _Very _proud." He smiled at me and turned back toward the class.

And he was on his own. I hope and pray he does well. He needs to get this albatross from around his neck if he is ever to go forward again. I turned then and headed back out to get to work.

XXX

This was it, I thought walking in. I'm glad Darry came with me, I wasn't in the mood to explain my name to that woman, not when my mind was already doing flip flops on what I was supposed to be doing in here. He didn't need to be so rough to her though, both Ponyboy and I were quite used to the responses our names got, but it had been a while since he had flexed his muscles and she _was _being snotty about it.

I took a seat and waited. There were a lot of people I recognized in here, most of them from our side of town. Greasers who had gotten older and had nothing going for them anymore. I suddenly wondered if I looked like that. My hair had grown back some, and I hardly used any grease in it anymore. Not that I heavily greased my hair in the first place, that honor was left for Ponyboy. I wondered if he still greased his hair, if he was still one of us.

I had to pass this test, get a handle on my life. Being a mechanic is a good job and I do enjoy taking things apart and putting them back together, but I could see this wasn't getting me anywhere. It was time to move on.

"Okay, folks. Welcome to the Tri-County Board of Education GED Exam." The proctor was off, explaining the test, what we were to fill out and other things. Packets were handed out and we started filling in stuff. Very long, very tedious, but necessary. Eventually we got close to the testing part and all I could do was pray. This might take a small miracle, but I sure could use it. I could feel the sweat rolling down my back already.

"You may begin."

XXX

"There he is...hey Soda!" Both Two-Bit and I were sitting on the hood of my car, waiting in the parking lot of the school board building as Soda walked out.

"Damn, Two-Bit, you ain't got to yell!" I rubbed my ear and scowled at my friend.

"Hey guys, what brings you down here?" Soda asked, walking over and joining us. "They call you to return your diploma yet, Two-Bit?"

"Hardy har har. No way, man. That is the _one _thing I really didn't steal. I _earned_ that puppy!"

"Well, you had enough practice getting it!" Soda quipped back.

"Enough of this... Soda, how'd ya do?" I looked expectantly at Soda.

Soda's grin faded somewhat, and his shoulders drooped a little. "Don't know. I ain't getting my hopes up though. That was a hard test. Results will be posted tomorrow."

"Guess we'll make a return trip tomorrow then." Two-Bit said, getting off the hood of the car and opening the door for Soda to climb in the back.

"What time they posting the results?" I asked, closing my own door as I got behind the wheel.

"Tonight around six, but I can wait."

Both Two-Bit and I looked at Soda.

"Steve, buddy, bring us back here at six, okay?"

"Like you really need to ask, Two-Bit."

Soda was giving us both a scowl. "Guys, I didn't do well...let it go."

"Soda, we're coming back. But for now, lets go get some food. Jay's sound good to ya'll?" I already had my car going in that direction, so it was that or bust.

"Perfect, let's go!" yelped Two-Bit.

"No! It's my night to cook, and Darry will be pissed if he comes home hungry to an empty house."

"Well then, let's go get Superman." I wasn't taking no for an answer, and Soda was trapped in the backseat anyway.

Soda sat back in the seat, resigned.

XXX

"Darry!"

"Damn it, Two-Bit," Irubbed my ears again then smacked Two-Bit hard. "Stop screaming in my ear!"

Darry came over and leaned in the car window. Noticing the captive in the rear, he smiled.

"How'd ya do?" He asked Soda.

"Wont know until tonight. These clowns insist on returning at six, but I dunno." Soda sat back in the seat and shrugged, "I don't feel good about it."

Darry just looked at him, then took a breath. "Well, if you didn't make it, we'll work on it some more and try again later. You can't give up, Soda. I won't let you make that mistake twice. Where you guys headed?"

"Jay's for dinner. You done here?"Iasked looking around. There weren't many workers on the job site left.

"Yeah, I'm done. Let me get my truck and I'll follow you over."

I revved my engine and pulled back out onto the road as Darry walked over to his truck.

XXX

A few minutes later they were all in a booth. Two-Bit had been eying some red head at the jukebox and decided it was time for some tunes, and Steve was twisting straws into triangles while Darry and Soda discussed the test.

"Soda, I'm serious when I say you ain't giving up."

"I won't, Darry." Soda looked up at Darry.

Soda's brown eyes were sad. He had already convinced himself he had failed again. He was tired of failing, but he never had the smarts like his brothers did.

Burgers were ordered, Two-Bit eventually got the red head's phone number and linked triangles were scattered all over the table by the time the food arrived. Silly banter existed between the four as they ate, and finally it was time to go.

XXX

"You guys gonna follow us or go on home?" Darry asked Steve. I looked at Steve and he never hesitated.

"We're gonna follow."

I got in the passenger seat as Steve started the car then pulled out. "Think he passed?" I asked after we were on the road a minute.

"I dunno, man. I dunno. He's acting like he didn't, but he's been studying harder than I've ever seen him. A couple of times I had to go out and pump gas cause he had his nose stuck in a book.," Steve chuckled slightly, "just like the kid used to. Reminded me of old times. Didn't want to interrupt him, even if he was supposed to be working. I know how important this is to him."

"He doing this for himself or for Pony?" I still couldn't decide. Whatever the reason, I was glad for him. I went to school for fun, but fun eventually ended when Johnny and Dally died. Then some guys from Tim's gang got drafted. War was closing in on all of us. At that point, I just wanted to finish so my mom wouldn't be ashamed of me if something had happened that would put me six feet under too. I dedicated my diploma to Johnny, I think he would have thought that tuff. I liked thinking I could give the kid a smile even in the here-after. He didn't deserve to be there, that's for sure.

Steve looked at me. "Both, I think. That war changed him. He saw more shit than I did, being a medic and all. He deserved the Silver Star, not me. Hell, after all he and his family have gone through, he deserves the fucking Medal of Honor. But I think even if the kid were here, he'd still be doing this. He might not be as determined about it, but he'd be doing it."

I thought so too. We made it back to the Board of Eduction office and got out, leaning back against Steve's car as we watched Soda and Darry walk on alone. As much as I wanted to go with them, Steve and I knew this was another "Curtis moment." We'd share it later, but for now, at this second in time, it was for them and them alone.

They approached the glass window where a single piece of paper had been taped up from inside the the building. Soda leaned in, his hand going down the sheet then stopped. I watched him lean closer, even Darry was looking at it harder. Time stopped for a second, then a shout of **YES** was heard clear across the parking lot.

I watched as Soda jumped at least three feet in the air, his fist pumping the sky. Darry caught him and held him up as high as he could, spinning him around a moment, both laughing. They looked like little kids for a minute. Shouts of "I told you you could do it!" were clearly heard as Darry congratulated Soda, who was still screaming, "Yes Yes Yes!"

Finally Darry put him down and grabbed him in a bear hug. Whatever words they shared were between them. I saw Soda nod his head and wipe his eyes as he looked at Darry again, after he released him from the hug. Finally they turned from the building and walked toward us, Darry's arm slung over Soda's shoulder, smiles across both their faces.

"I take it he passed," Steve said, smiling.

"I guess so, man. Tuff enough!" I looked at Steve and bopped his knuckles. Finally this hurdle was jumped.

"Now we all have our diploma's..." Steve started, but I stopped him.

"Not yet, Steve, not yet." He looked at me, nodding in understanding.

"Way to go, man!" Steve said as Soda and Darry neared the car.

"Damn straight!" I echoed back.

Soda looked at us, his eyes brighter than they had been in a long while. "I couldn't have done this without you all. Thanks, guys." His broad smile had returned, and I felt he was at last ready to move on.

XXX

Here's an extra... Some have thought this predictable, hope I haven't made this where the surprise factor is gone. I need your reviews to tell me what you think. Thanks! Calla Lilly


	37. Chapter 37

Thank you to my reviewers. There are a few new names on the lists, I am happy to hear from you!

This is a short chapter, but is a bridge piece.

Chapter 37

Destiny

The summer was finally a week away. I had worked hard with Coach Devers getting the track teams ready since last March, and they had shown lots of improvement since my first glances of them as I ran by the school so long ago. None of them qualified for competitions, save the local meets they went to. There were no regional or state runners in this group of kids, not like back at my school in Tulsa where it was all about being the best and having the fastest times, but these kids tried hard and had fun. None of them could keep up with me, obviously. I had school records back home for lots of the meets I went to, my fleeting moments of glory, probably now gone to someone else. But I was still fast, and my speed amazed them. It was my secret that I was the same age as most of the kids here that I was supposed to be helping. As the last class ended, they all smiled and vowed to work harder, to come back the next year and outrun me.

"We'll see." I told them.

My first college class was set to start Monday. I was taking one summer class, math 101, in order to get it out of the way, be that far ahead. Meeting the counselor was interesting. She just kept looking at me, disbelief that I was old enough to be coming to college. I couldn't tell her that I couldn't believe it either, but I just smiled instead. She went over what I wanted to do, what majors interested me. I leaned heavily into the journalism curriculum, and finally she assigned me an advisor for that major. That was it. Now I was a journalism student.

A few mornings ago, I had woken up to an unfamiliar feeling. One I had given up thinking would happen. Oh, I knew it _would_ happen, someday, I just had forgotten to think on it with so much else going on in my life. I reached over to scratch my face in the bleariness of the early morning, and felt the tiniest of roughness on my chin and jawline. My brain processed what it was and my eyes shot wide open.

Scrambling out of the sheets and blankets to the bathroom, I searched my face in the mirror and found it. A stubble of facial hair. My mind went back to a time long ago, asking Soda when he started to shave. Fifteen, I remember him saying. Darry started at thirteen. And here I was at the tale end of sixteen finally having that rite of passage occur. Dad had bought both Darry and Soda their first razors, I would have to buy my own. I was growing up, leaving my youth further and further behind me. I regretted not having anyone to tell who would understand the significance of it. I was no longer the "kid" as Two-Bit often called me, and yet I couldn't tell them either. Still, I was relieved. Time moves on for all of us.

My car, a 1963 Ford Falcoln was parked behind the garage, out of the way of Mr. and Mrs. Roberts's cars. I bought it last week so I could get to college and back. It was used but the previous owner, one of the high school teachers, wanted to upgrade and sold it to me at a steal. I loved it. It was red with a black stripe down the sides. Hardtop. Not too big and yet not some tiny Stingray- like car either.

I took it out for a drive in the country, just enjoying the freedom, the wide open roads. I kept my speed in check. Even though I managed to get my license without that cop checking my background, I didn't need any tickets either. I headed out toward the college where I parked and wandered around on foot. It was a place I felt welcomed to, belonged to. It was still very quiet, not many students around now, but next week it would be bustling with activity. Classes would start and I would have something to fill my days with.

I sat on a bench between the arts building and the science hall, and watched a man who's picture I had become familiar with approach. All the professors had their pictures and specialties listed in the school catalog. I recognized him, he was the head of the arts department and I would be taking one of his classes in the fall.

"Hello, Dr. Benning!" I called out. He stopped walking and turned to me.

"Yes, son?"

"Sorry to bother you, sir. I've signed up for your Introduction to Art class this fall. Just thought I'd say hello."

Dr. Benning looked at the young man. He looked awful young, too young to be going to college yet. He couldn't be eighteen, doubted he was even seventeen. Kids just seem younger every year. But his eyes were eager for school, and that was good.

"You're here mighty early then, aren't you? Here, help me carry these in." He handed me a couple boxes of notepads. I took them and followed him inside.

"I'm coming for the summer session too. Math 101. Thought I'd get an early start."

"I see. What's your major, or have you picked one yet?"

"Language arts. I like to write. I draw too, but figured there was a better market in journalism."

"What do you draw?" Dr. Benning looked at me skeptically.

"What do you want me to draw? I'm pretty good at anything."

"Where's your portfolio?"

I looked at him, blank as a deer in the headlights.

"Your artwork. Samples. Anything?"

I shook my head.

"Well, here..." He handed me a blank pad and a handful of pencils, then pointed to a chair. "You say you can draw, so draw. Something from nature. Lets see how good you are on the spot."

I took a seat and began. Bald Eagles were my favorite, ever since my train ride up, I had eagles down pat. Every now and then he would come over and look over my shoulder, never saying a word but seemed impressed.

I had drawn the eagle in profile while in flight against a blue sky background. In his talons was a fish, freshly caught in the lake below him. A few drops of water still falling from its scales. Finally, I finished it and handed it to him.

He stared at it, then at me.

"What's your name, son?"

"Michael Curtis," I replied.

"How old are you?" he finally asked.

"Eighteen. I'll be nineteen in a few weeks." I lied. I'd be seventeen soon.

"And you're sure you want to be a journalist? I think your real talent is art." His eyes still hadn't left my drawing.

"Well, if writing doesn't work for me, I'll have something to fall back on then, right, sir?"

"Fall back on? Oh yeah, right. Say, Michael, can I keep this, show it to some people I know."

"Sure, Dr. Benning, if that's what you want to do." I had plenty of eagle drawings back at my place, with much better detail.

"Great! Can I get your name and address on it, don't want anyone thinking I stole it."

I put my information on it, thanked him and walked back outside. The campus was empty. I got back in my car and headed back toward Wolf Creek. I had no idea the surprises that lay in front of me, just around the corner. Destiny had already met me, I just didn't know it yet.

XXX

Congratulations, President Obama!


	38. Chapter 38

I don't own anything associated with **The Outsiders**, except my copy of the book I bought a really long time ago, and the movie I bought on VHS, and the updated version of the movie on DVD which while I like all the extra footage, I don't really care for the new soundtrack. Sounds like they are all on acid, but that's just my opinion. And I really think they should have put in the footage of Pony defending himself against the car load of Soc's that pulled up when Two-Bit and Steve were inside getting whatever they were getting, leaving Pony to bust his Pepsi bottle to defend himself. Afterall, it showed Pony had developed a sense of self reliance, and wasn't gonna take their crap anymore. A big, big important part of the book that I think should have been in the movie. Well, off my soap box and on with my story....

Chapter 38

Mathmatical Improbabilities

Classes had started weeks ago, and I was knee deep in math. Formulas and equations I had only heard of in my old classes back in Tulsa came back to me here. I was doing okay so far, upper "B's", but this wasn't what I thought it would be like. Still, as long as I was passing and doing my best, I couldn't complain. The professor explained that summer sessions taught the whole twelve week curriculum in only eight weeks, so it's all accelerated. I hoped when I had a full course of classes in the fall, the pace would slow up some, but I doubted it.

Going to college was an experience in itself. I always had looks not only from other students in the class, but also from the professors. "Are you lost, son," was one comment that came out the most.

"No, not lost, just going to class, thanks," was my response. Most folks left it at that, but some would ask my age. I'd look them point blank in the eye and say "eighteen." In reality, I was going to turn seventeen next month, and wasn't sure how to celebrate it.

At home, birthdays were always special events, before mom and dad died and even more so after. They went the extra mile to let us know how much we were important to them, and after we lost them we used our own special days to spend it together, just the three of us, to reaffirm how much we meant to each other. We knew all to well, unfortunately, how quickly we could be gone. And now, Soda was gone too.

I wished I could be with Darry, let him know I did this _for_ him, to give him that chance back that he lost. It _**tortured**_ me to think he was hurting at my leaving, it _really_ ate me up, but it was a catch twenty two. If I go back, or call, or write, he would stop going to school, stop moving on with his life and make me come back. His freedom would be gone again. He would trace the calls, find the postmarks on the letters or somehow hunt me down until he found me and brought me home again. It went round and round in my head, but never did I find a solution. So I prepared to spend the first birthday of my life alone.

My mailbox had a notice in it from George. "Please go to Window," it said.

"Hey George. I got your note. What's up?"

"Oh, Michael, glad you're here. These came for you and won't fit into your box." He handed me a tub filled with familiar envelopes. My manuscripts. Of the eight I sent out, seven had been returned.

"Thanks, George. Sorry 'bout the hassle."

"No hassle, Michael. Hope these aren't all love letters!" He was teasing me.

"Now George, I only have so much time in the day!" I laughed as I picked up the tub and carried it out to my car. Once back at my apartment, I started opening them up. Seven nicely typed rejection letters. They all said it in a different way, but it was the same message none-the-less. I sighed, well it _was_ too good to be true, I thought. I put all the manuscripts in a box and shoved it under my bed. Moving on....

I did the best I could in that math class, and it wasn't easy. The professor did a great job of explaining the formulas and gave us plenty of work to study on. The month just flew by, and it was July before I knew it.

"Michael... Michael Curtis?" I was trying to remember stuff about the hypotenuse of the triangle when my name, being called for what had to have been the tenth time finally broke into my thoughts and got my attention. I had been sitting under a tree, math book in my lap, working on my homework.

"Yes...yes sir, Dr. Benning. What can I do for you?"

"Michael, do you have a few minutes? I need to see you in my office if you have the time."

"Sure, sir." I juggled my books back into my bag and followed him back to the art department.

"Hey dad, can I go to the student center now?" Some young lady was in Dr. Benning's office, and by her words I knew it was his daughter. She looked at me and blushed, smiling, then turned away.

"Alright, Ashley, but come back in an hour so we can leave on time. Understand, young lady?"

"Yes sir," she mumbled, and passed by me on the way out. I watched her leave, then returned my attention to Dr. Benning.

"Seventeen year olds. They take the cake." He said out loud, but I wasn't exactly sure if it was to me.

"Sir?" I asked. He looked up then and smiled.

"Oh, nothing Michael. But take my advice, don't have daughters! Now, what I wanted to talk with you about is that Eagle drawing you did for me. Is that all you can draw, or is there anything else?"

"I can draw almost anything, sir, given adequate time of course."

"Do you have a portfolio with all your work in it?"

"I have all my work in sketch pads, not in a portfolio per se."

"Would you be willing to bring them in, let me look at them. Perhaps let a few others see your work?"

"I suppose I could. Why?"

He smiled at me, then indicated for me to sit down. I did and he sat behind me his desk.

"I have a friend, a writer of children's books who has been looking for an illustrator to help liven up his stories. He has three books on the market, but they aren't doing very well. His publisher has suggested an illustrator to liven up his work... give him an edge. I'd like him to meet you. Your work is fresh, clean and uncomplicated. I took the liberty of showing your Eagle drawing to him, and he liked it. What do you say?"

I was speechless. "Um, okay, I'll talk to him. When?"

"This Friday at eleven. Is that okay with you?"

"I get out of class at ten. That'll be fine."

"Good. Don't forget to bring your work. See you on Friday." He stood up and held out his hand. I shook it then left. I still wasn't sure what that was all about.

"So, you're Michael?" A quiet voice pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see Dr. Benning's daughter sitting on a bench outside the art department.

"Yes ma'am. Michael Curtis." I just looked at her. She had sandy blond hair that she wore in a ponytail and hazel eyes, slender figure and long slender fingers. If she wore make-up, I couldn't tell.

"Ashley Benning. Daddy's been talking nonstop about that Eagle drawing you did. I saw it, it's really good."

"Thanks." I smiled, looking down. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't used to talking to girls, especially nice girls. "You go to school here too?"

She smiled and looked down, blushing some. "No, I'm only seventeen, still in high school. I'm a senior, starting twelfth grade this fall."

"Oh." More silence. I didn't miss the fact that she and I were practically the same age and by all rights, I should be a senior in high school this year too. "So, you liked my drawing?"

She looked at me, nodding. "I do. The colors were very clean, and I've never seen such detail in hand drawn feathers before. Daddy loved it, heard him telling mom it was uncanny talent." She was quiet for a minute, then tilted her head slightly and asked me what everyone else had. "You're really a student here? You just don't seem old enough."

"Yeah, I'm really a student here, first year." I just didn't want to lie to her.

Just as I was starting to get over my nervousness about talking with her, the door opened and Dr. Benning came out.

"Ashley, ready for lunch?" he called to her, smiling.

She got to her feet. She was almost as tall as I was, shorter by only a few inches.

"Yes sir," she said to him. Then she turned to me and smiled, saying, "It was nice meeting you, Michael. Perhaps we can talk later?"

"Yeah, I'd like that." I stepped back to let her by and watched her and Dr. Benning walk off toward the faculty parking lot.

I wasn't sure which I felt better about, that the art professor was so impressed by my drawing that he showed it to others, including a published author; or that I actually managed to speak to a girl my age who didn't look down on me as if I were dirt, didn't fling herself on me like all the tramps used to with Soda, and was actually interested in my work.

So far, college definitely looked like it was going to be full of new experiences, much different from high school. I picked up my bag and headed for the student parking lot, ready to head home.

XXX

Hope you like this chapter. Please...please leave reviews!!

Calla Lilly rose


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Heartache

Dinner at the house had not exactly gone as I planned. I bought beer and burgers to celebrate Soda's passing his GED exam and the four of us sat around the house drinking and eating, playing cards while the TV droned on in the background. I had only half a beer, letting Two-Bit finish mine while I switched to Pepsi. I didn't like feeling out of control and while I can hold my beer, I never like to chance it.

I wasn't paying attention to the guys though. I figured they'd all get drunk and just pass out. Soda had other plans.

First he got buzzed and giggled about something only he could see, then the more he drank, the quieter he got. Even Two-Bit and Steve held back their drinking, stopping just after the buzz hit.

Next thing I knew, tears fell from my brothers eyes. He started rattling off about how Ponyboy could have been taken into some back alley and abused. Terrified that Ponyboy didn't have enough strength in him to fight off an attack of that magnitude, raped by others who got their jollies by hurting kids. Sodomized over and over again until there was nothing left but a shell of a boy vaguely resembling our brother, then killed when his usefulness was gone.

This thought floored me. It had to have come from some twisted shit he'd seen or heard in 'Nam. We tried to tell him that it hadn't happened, that it _couldn't _have happened to our brother, but he wasn't hearing it. His drunken mind wouldn't allow the thought to go away.

"Why else would he be gone so long? Why would he not try to call us?" He sobbed.

I hated to admit I had no idea why. His reason, while sickening, held just as much weight as any other I had thought of, but it only gave me more to be concerned about.

Finally, Soda's sobs quieted down as he lay on the couch and I put a blanket over him. Steve stayed in my chair and Two-Bit went to sleep on Pony's bed. The thought occurred to me later that Steve was still watching over Soda, just as he did while over there.

While they all slept, I found myself unable to close my own eyes. Soda's fear had put an image in my head that I couldn't get rid of. I could see how Soda felt it was possible that Pony could be hurt like that. Pony was the emotional one of the group and was physically out of shape before he disappeared.

He could fight though. At least he used to. He was agile, which made up for his missing bulk. But even agility wouldn't be enough to fend off a 2 -on- 1, or a 3 -on-1 attack. "Damn it, Soda, why'd you put this idea in my head?" I whispered. Not needing it to be said, I didn't sleep well that night.

The sun hadn't come up yet when I woke up. The house was still quiet, Two-Bit was snoring like crazy in Pony's bed and Steve was still asleep in my chair. He would have a stiff back and neck from the position he was sleeping in, but I didn't wake him. The couch, however was empty. Soda wasn't in the kitchen either. A note on the table said simply, "Out for a while, Soda." Knowing my brother the way I do, there was only one place he'd go at this hour. I grabbed my keys and shoes and headed out.

Pulling up to the cemetery, I saw him sitting on mom and dad's headstone.

"Soda?" I called quietly to him.

He looked over at me. "Damn Darry, you should be a Private Detective."

I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him to me. I could feel the sobs in his chest that he wouldn't let go of.

"It's just us here, Soda, let it out. Mom and dad have seen us cry before, they won't mind either." I whispered to him.

Finally he did, and I just held him. He leaned his head back against my chest and gradually went limp as the tears flowed from his eyes and the sobs poured forth from his body.

"He's not dead, Soda. I don't know how I know, but I just do. And if he were hurt, he'd call. He thinks he's doing this for me, for us – he just doesn't realize how wrong he is. But until he realizes he's wrong, we'll have to wait it out. We've done everything we can to find him, now it's his turn to find his way back to us. I don't know how long it will take, but he will. We'll just have to be strong and wait for him. Okay?"

I felt him nod his head against my chest. My arms were still wrapped around his body, my hands holding him tight.

"Mom and dad," I said, looking down at their headstone, "keep him safe. He's in your hands again."

Soda reached down and softly stroked the smooth granite. "Tell him we love him, and send him home to us soon." He turned to face me and threw his arms around me. I held him again, letting him pull away only when he was ready.

"Come on Soda, lets go home." I guided him out of the cemetery, pausing a moment as we passed another smaller, simpler headstone. "Hey, Johnnycakes. You keep an eye on him too for us, okay pal?"

The rising sun bathed the whole cemetery in shades of chartreuse and crimson, as if it were a silent acknowledgement from the three departed souls answering our request. Even Soda stopped in his tracks, noticing the sudden change in colors around us. He looked at me, unsure, and I put my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. "they know, Soda, they know."

By now he'd been gone for over nine months. The same amount of time it takes to create life. I wondered what type of life he'd created for himself. I hoped it was a good one, that he was at least warm, that he had food and a place to stay. I hoped he would remember that there is another place that exists for him, filled with all those things but also with love. Love of friends and family. It was right here.

XX

Monday finally came around. A new week, a fresh start. I had Two-Bit drop me off at the community college on his way to deliver parts out of town. It was weird for me to be walking on a college campus. I never figured I'd be here for myself. Maybe to watch Darry play football or Pony run track then graduate with their degrees, but for me to be here for myself - well, I never would have believed it.

"How can I help you?" said the lady at the information desk.

"Looking for the EMT class...stuff." Hell, I didn't even know how to phrase it. She smiled and got out a map of the campus.

"You're here," she circled a building, "and here is where you want to be." She circled another building. "Building 8 – Health Professions. If you get lost, just look for the caduceus in the bushes. Mr. Tanner is the lead instructor. Good luck!"

I thanked her and headed out. I made my way to building 8 and laughed when I got there. She was right – someone with obviously too much time on their hands had literally trimmed the bushes into caduceus's. I walked in.

I walked down the hall until I found a door with the plaque "Donald Tanner, EMS" on it. I knocked on the door and was allowed inside.

"Mr. Tanner?"

The man at the desk looked up and smiled. "What can I do for you, son?"

"I was hoping to enroll in your EMT class."

"Have you completed your application?"

"No sir, I'm not really sure where to start. I just know where I want to finish."

He smiled and stood up. Reaching into a drawer he pulled out an application.

"Fill this out, bring in your birth certificate, high school diploma and proof of residency to the admissions office. They will go over everything and send it on to me. Being an EMT isn't easy, do you know what it entails?"

"I was a medic in the Army, and I was recommended for the field. I just want a chance."

"Army medic, huh?" He looked at me closely. "Bring in your DD 214 then, too. What's your name?"

"Sodapop Curtis, sir, and yeah, it's my real name."

"Okay, Sodapop. You fill out the application, get it back here by Wednesday, and I'll hopefully be able to let you know by Friday."

"That would be great, My Tanner. Thank you!" I shook his hand, took the forms and headed outside.

If I had looked on the wall of his office, I would have seen a flag, folded into a triangle and encased in a walnut frame. A single picture of a young man about my age centered in the middle, a Bronze Star pinned to the flag to the left of the picture, a purple heart pinned to the right. On a brass plate on the bottom of the frame was engraved the name of the young man, the date of his birth and the date of his death. William Tanner, his son.

XXX

I have changed some details in chapter 1, I might change more. Let me know what you think.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

Deals

The week flew by. I was busy with formulas and equations trying my level best to get this math class finished. I was hoping for a "B". If I did better, well that would be dandy too.

Friday morning, I made sure to put my sketch pads in my car along with my math book. I had a test first thing in class, so I didn't have any nervous energy left to worry about this meeting I had in the art department.

It was a forty minute drive out to the school, and I loved the scenery. There was a certain spot on the way where the east and west horizons are clearly seen, as a small hill stands on a clearing. Every day as I pass it, I picture a house sitting on that hill, where from the porch you can watch the sun rise in the morning and set in the evening.

It was a forty acre spread and had a for sale sign on it. I imagined all I could do with that land, but as I would pass it I would put the thought out of my head. Forty acres was too much land for any one person to own, unless they were a farmer or had a huge family. I was only sixteen years old...playing the part of an eighteen year old. What was I to do with that much land? Still.... someone needed to buy it.

On and on I drove until I was back on the campus. I left the sketch pads in my car and went to take my test. I did okay on it, scored a 93. That's respectable, I suppose. This being my only college class in my life, I wasn't sure how to judge grades.

Finally, math class wrapped up and we headed out. I went and exchanged my books for my sketch pads, wondering what was about to happen.

Dr. Benning could see me coming down the hall and smiled. He had been talking to someone as yet unseen by me in his office. As I came closer, he got up and came around his desk.

"Michael Curtis, glad you came. Come in. Michael, this is Mr. Quinn, John Quinn, John, this is Michael, the young man I was telling you about.

"Hello, Mr. Quinn. Glad to meet you." I didn't know what to say past that.

"Well, Michael, I'll tell you why you're here. Alfred here was telling me about your art work, showed me the drawing you did. He was really impressed with it, and it takes a lot to impress him. Do you have any other samples to show?"

"Here's my sketch pads, help yourself." Mr. Quinn looked through them. Even I had forgotten all the drawings I had completed since I came here. My stomach knotted some as he looked at the one I did of my parents after writing the first draft of my book. He skimmed through the landscapes, the wildlife, the autumn on the prairie, other drawings and assorted doodling's I had completed. Most of them were musings I did to while away the hours. Finally he seemed satisfied and put the sketch pads down.

"Do you have any experience as a professional artist, Michael?" Mr. Quinn asked of me.

"No sir." I said rather surprised he's ask.

"Well, your work is wonderful. Clean and vibrant. Captures the essence of your subjects. I need something like this for my work." He handed me three books, children's books. I glanced through them and looked at him.

"Yeah, that's the problem. Nothing in them stands out. I can do all the writing in the world, but little kids need to see it to appreciate it. My current illustrator has been let go. Her work is too dramatic for children. Here's the deal, you take my books and totally re-illustrate them – to your hearts content. Make my words come alive in your drawings. I'll give you till the fall quarter starts...when's that, Alfred?"

Dr. Benning spoke up, "August 29."

"Good, August 29th to do what you can. If I like what I see, then I might have a more permanent position for you. Would you like to give it a shot?"

"Is there any pay involved?" I asked.

"He's a shrewed one, Alfred. You didn't tell me that." Mr. Quinn smiled to Dr. Benning.

"Yes, there is. But as you aren't known it isn't very much. I'll pay you $50 for each of my books you illustrate. Keep in mind, that once I pay for the illustrations, they become mine to keep."

I thought this over, and came up with my own solution.

"How about this. I'll do your illustrations and you can keep them when I am done, free, but I want to speak with an agent who can help me with my own manuscript."

"Wow. That takes some serious balls, Michael!"

"John, please...." Dr. Benning reprimanded his friend.

"Sorry, sorry. Ahem. Okay, Michael. I'll have my agent, Donald Buckner, call you. That's not a guarantee that you'll have your own work published though, you understand?"

"I understand. Will my name appear on your book as illustrator if you use my work?"

"Yes, it will."

"Fine. I'll get started on your illustrations as soon as I can."

I gave him my phone number for Mr. Buckner to call me. He already had my other information. He thanked me, and I gathered my stuff to go.

Once outside, I saw Ashley by the bench reading a book.

"Hey Ashley," I said. She looked up at me

"Daddy said he was bringing Mr. Quinn today to see you. Things go okay?"

"I guess so. We have a deal, sort of."

She smiled. I wasn't ready for my heart to skip like it was. "What are you doing here? I mean, it's summer...."

"I come out here all the time. We don't live but a few miles from here, and I hate being cooped up in the house."

"Going to visit your dad, then?"

"No, Michael, I really came to see you."

Silence. What do I say to this? Whatever it was, I took too long. Being put on the spot had a bad reversal effect. She suddenly looked flustered.

"But I guess I should leave. I don't know what I was thinking..." She turned to go.

"No... wait! I … uh...thanks." I stammered.

"Thanks? For what?" She tilted her head, confused.

I looked at her. "I dunno, just.... thanks."

She blushed. "You're welcome."


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Visitors of The Unexpected Type

July 22. The date was circled on the calender although neither brother needed to be reminded why. He was 17 today. The anniversary of the day the two became three. Only now they were two again, and one could literally taste the pall over the house.

Darry had taken the day off just as he had every year since becoming head of the household, and Soda was only working until noon. Normally they would have the standard ice-cream and cake, BBQ on the grill and toss water balloons at each other until they were all soaked to the bone. At the end of the day they would go to the cemetery to lay flowers on their parents graves, in honor of the two people who gave them life in the first place.

This year was different, for obvious reasons. Ponyboy wasn't there, and it made no sense to do these birthday activities when the person they were celebrating wasn't there. It left a hollow feeling that couldn't be filled.

Instead, Darry took out a candle and lit it at 10:15 that morning, the time Ponyboy was born 17 years ago, and left it lit all day.

Darry was surprised when the screen door opened and Tim poked his head in the door. "Hey Darry..." he said.

"Hey Tim. Come on in."

Tim did and made his way to the kitchen where Darry was doing the dishes and got himself a cold glass of water. He saw the candle on the table and said nothing for a while.

"Kid still missing, huh?" Tim already knew the answer, but didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah, he's still gone."

"How you and Soda holding up?"

Darry just looked at him without answering. Tim understood.

"That bad, huh?"

"We're doing the best we can."

"Which is to say you guys aren't doing well at all."

"Tim, this ain't easy. You have both Angela and Curly where you can find them. Imagine not knowing where one of them was at any point in time. Knowing they aren't even in the same state as you. Hell, by this time Ponyboy could be in Canada or Mexico."

"I know, Darry. I came to ask what I can do. I have connections. I got a cousin out in Vegas who can snoop around. One of my boys went off to North Dakota, he thinks he's out of my reach, but he ain't. What can I do?"

Darry looked at him. "Tim, I don't want him dead! I just want him found. Put an end to this nightmare. But a _happy_ending. Soda doesn't sleep, I can't. The boys spend more time asking complete strangers if they've seen him than they do asking about fill-ups and auto part deliveries. It's been ten months - Christ! Almost a whole year! All I want is to see his scrawny ass walk back through my front door so I can give him a lecture about not calling when he's gonna be late coming home." Darry stopped, looked at Tim then turned away. "But that's not gonna happen. Go ahead. Use your contacts. Create new ones. Do whatever. I doubt you'll find him."

A long silence filled the room, then Tim spoke again. "You need anything?'

Darry looked at him.

"I know you ain't been working as much and with Soda hurt from 'Nam... well... you need anything?"

Darry realized he meant money. Tim didn't know about the wad he was sitting on. The boys had kept it quieter than anything Darry had ever seen before.

"No Tim. Thanks for the offer. Soda's disability check makes up for the difference."

Tim just nodded his head. No one liked to talk about 'Nam. One of Tim's members just made the final voyage home in a flag draped box, another life cut short.

"Heard he was going back to school?" Tim is rarely left out of the rumor mill. The money Darry had wasn't a rumor, it was a deathly guarded secret that only those select four knew of.

"Yeah. He got his GED and was accepted into the EMT program. He starts in a week. I think he'll do fine. It's what he was doing over there, just less intense."

"Tell him I said good luck. I'll put out the word as far north and west as I can about the kid." A minute later, he put his glass down and said, "Call me, Darrel, if you need anything. I know you're one strong son of a bitch, but you ain't got to carry the whole load."

"I will, Tim. Thanks."

XX

Around 12:30, Soda came in the house. In his hand he carried three carnations. Two were red and one was white. He saw the lit candle on the table and went over to it. The heat from the flame could be felt even in this sweltering July heat. He left the flowers on the table, then went looking for Darry.

"Hey, I'm back."

Darry was in his bedroom, changing sheets and folding clothes.

"Hey little buddy. Have a good day?"

"It was okay. I saw the candle, it's a good idea."

"Lets just pray this is the only year it's lit."

"Yeah. You want to go to the lake for a swim?" Soda had asked of Darry.

He thought about it, it had been a long time since they had gone to the lake, but the heat was becoming unbearable in the house and he could use a cooling off. "Yeah, sounds good. Let me change first."

While Darry changed, Soda washed the oil/grease/gasoline smells off him then met Darry in the living room, towels in hand. When ready, they drove down to the lake. Soda put the flowers on the seat between them for later.

"You wearing that shirt?" asked Darry once they got to the waters edge.

"Yeah." Soda said. He was wearing a white T-shirt with his swimming trunks.

"Why?" Darry asked. Soda had never worn anything besides his trunks while swimming before.

"Cause my scar shows above my waist line." Soda explained.

Darry had forgotten, felt stupid and shut up about it. Soda noticed the sudden silence.

"No big deal, Darry. Come on, lets see if you can still beat me to the other side!"

They laughed and swam and dunked each other until they were exhausted. Laying out, they each turned to their own thoughts, but those thoughts were on the same person, their missing brother. It was his day, and he was missing it, and they were missing him.

"Want to go put the flowers down on the way home?" Soda asked.

"Yeah, we can do that."

They got back in the truck and headed off to the cemetery. Getting closer to their parents graves, they noticed something out of the ordinary.

"Darry, do you see what I see?"

"Yeah – hold on."

As they got closer, they each noticed a bouquet of white carnations placed on their parents headstone. Darry picked them up and noticed a card attached by a ribbon. He read the note and dropped to his knees shaking like a leaf. Soda took the flowers from him and read the card himself. Within seconds, he too was on the ground, unable to stand. It wasn't a big bouquet and the card was simple. It said:

_**To Mama and Daddy, **_

_**Love Always,**_

_**Ponyboy**_

"Oh Shit! He was here!!" Soda said, eyes wide open.

XXX

After much anguishing debate, I altered Chapter 1. Please go back and re read it. It might make some of you a little happier. Calla Lilly


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Confessional

I worked hard on those illustrations for Mr. Quinn, ignoring what was already done so I wouldn't just be repeating the same artwork he already didn't like. It was all silly stuff – this was children's literature after all, puppies and kittens, kites and clouds, nothing that was gonna kill me to create like intricate 3-dimensional stuff. I just had fun with it. I had one of his books finished within two weeks, and I thought it looked pretty good. I used a blank sketch pad and did the drawings, then placed the text around the drawings, a different spot on each page. It had been years obviously since I looked at kiddie books, but it looked as good as any I could remember.

I was also juggling my math class in between all this. I had ten days left before the the term ended, and we still had a regular test to take before the final exam. This class was getting harder and I could finally appreciate all the nagging Darry did to keep me focused on my work. My test was on Friday, my final exam the following Thursday. I studied and studied all week, and when it came time for the test, I did the best I could but still only scored an 88 on it. Somehow numbers always give me trouble, especially when you have to remember the formulas. Oh well, an 88 is still respectable to me. I passed with another "B" and now all I had was the final exam looming in the distance.

I had another nagging sentimentality hanging over me too. My birthday. I was turning 17 tomorrow, and as much as I looked forward to it, I also wished it wouldn't come. I'd be alone, and there is absolutely no fun in being alone on your birthday. I was driving back to Wolf Creek when melancholy hit me, and the next thing I knew, I had made a right onto a long dirt driveway where a few Maple trees stood along the side of the road.

It was that piece of land I passed by every day since starting school. I hadn't actually been on it before, just driven by it. The views were breathtaking all around. I parked my car close to the area where I always pictured a house would sit, and sure enough on either side, east and west, the horizon would be easy to view.

I grabbed an apple from my bag and walked around a while, munching on the fruit and thinking. There was nothing else here, no neighbors for as far as I could see. No one would bother me here. I started thinking of the house that would sit right where my car was. Single story, big fireplace. I found a pen and wrote the number for the realtor's office on my hand. I'd just call for information, see what they want for it. That 'for sale' sign had been on it for as long as I had been driving to and from school, maybe the price had dropped. I stayed out there another few minutes just lost in my thoughts and dreams, then got back on my way.

I was sitting on my bed later, trying to concentrate, but I couldn't. Every time I looked at my book, that phone number on my hand pulled my thoughts away. Finally I put my pencil down and picked up the phone.

"Brookwood Realty. How may I help you?"

"Could you tell me the listing price on that forty acre spread out on Brokenridge Highway?"

"Listing number 731?"

"Yes ma'am, that's it. How much?"

"Just one second, sir."

She put me on hold. A few seconds later, another voice was on the line.

"Hello! You were asking about listing number 731, the land out on Brokenridge?"

"Yes sir. How much are you asking for it?"

"Well, it's been dropped from $800 per acre down to $750 per acre...that makes it $30,000."

"I see." I didn't know if that was a huge amount or a steal, never having priced land before.

"What's your name, sir?"

"Michael Curtis. I'll have to call you back. Thanks." I hung up. I knew salesmen, they'd never give up talking to you, until you either hung up or agreed to buy something. I put on my shoes and went to the big house.

"Hi Michael!" Mr Roberts said once he opened the door. "Come in, everything okay?"

"Oh, yes sir...everything is fine. I just need some advice."

He led me to his study, the first time I had been in it. It was filled with bookshelves with all sorts of books and guy stuff, like fishing lures and hunting statues. The one place where the women didn't invade. He only had his daughter and wife, so I guess this was his oasis from the fru fru junk that girls get involved with.

"What can I help you with?"

"There's a piece of land between here and the college, forty acres, real nice. I called them, they said $750 an acre. Is that too much?"

"Ready to move on are you? Well, lets see. Is it nice land, cleared or wooded? A road on it? A house? Has it been perked? What does it abut to?"

I answered his questions as well as I could but to be honest, I had no idea what he was talking about. Finally, shakiing his head, he got up. "Carol, I'm going out for a while, honey," he called out to his wife. "Lets go see this land," he said to me.

I showed him how to get there and as we pulled up, he gave a long whistle. "This is a nice piece of property, Michael. Lets go have a look around."

We wandered around it for an hour, him explaining what he had been asking about at the house as we went up the hill and down the backside. I began to think he would want it for himself but finally he turned and gave me advice.

"Tell them you'll pay no more than $650 an acre. Don't expect them to agree – they wont. They'll go down from their price and you'll go up from yours, but eventually you'll meet in the middle. Have them pay closing costs – don't back down on that no matter what. This property has been listed for over a year, they will eventually agree to it so don't give in. This really is a nice piece of land you found."

"Thanks, Mr. Roberts." I smiled. "It's pretty big though."

"Seems like it now, but trust me, once you start doing things with it, it won't seem so big. When will you call them back?"

"Well, it's late now, perhaps tomorrow. Give myself a birthday present of land!" Oh I regretted letting that slip, but I couldn't pull the words back once they were out.

"Your birthday! Michael, why didn't you tell us! Gonna be 19 years old, huh! I swear, you barely look 18! Hope that youthful look stays with you always. Is your family coming up or are you going to visit them for the weekend?"

"Oh no. I'll just stay put and study. My brother lives in Oklahoma, too far for either of us to drive. Maybe I'll call." Or maybe I wont, Mr. Roberts doesn't need to know.

"Well, Michael, I want you to come to the house for dinner. Carol and I insist."

"Oh, sir, that's not......"

"I insist, Michael. I won't take no for an answer!"

I had to be red in the face. "Okay, sir. What time would you like me over?"

"At 5 pm."

"Yes sir, 5 o'clock it is."

We got back in his Mustang and headed out back toward his house. I took the steps back to my apartment over his garage as he went back into the house. I had no idea what he was planning for me with his wife, but I hoped it was low key. I wasn't a ten year old needing to be sung to. Those traditions were long over with.

However, I still had one tradition I needed to fulfill, and I wasn't going to let my self-induced exile stop me. I picked up the phone, called information and got the number of the one place I thought I could always go to in time of need, when even my brothers couldn't help me.

"Church of St. Mary, Sister Anne speaking. How may I help you?"

"Sister Anne, is Father Martin Bryce in?"

"One moment, my son." -pause-

"Father Bryce speaking, how may I help you?"

Okay, time to put faith to the test.

"Father Bryce, do you remember my mother... Mrs. Curtis, Mrs. Beverly Curtis? She used to play the piano for the church choir before her death. You officiated at her funeral."

There was a long silence, then he spoke.

"Yes, I remember Beverly. Lovely woman. You lost both your parents then, if I remember correctly. You say you're her son?"

"Yes, Father Bryce. It's Ponyboy. I remember at the funeral you told my brothers and me that if any of us needed help, we could come to you, no questions asked. Are you still holding to that, sir?"

"Ponyboy, what is it, son? What do you need?"

"Father, please. I need your word first. You wont tell anyone about our conversation, won't reveal anything I say. To anyone. Sort of like confession. Please sir, I have no one else I can trust."

"Okay, Ponyboy. I give you my word. Now, how can I help you."

"I need a small bouquet of white carnations placed on my mom and dad's grave tomorrow for me. It's important that it be tomorrow. No one can see you do it. I'm sorry to be so secretive. I'll send some money to pay for the flowers and whatever change is left you can put in the offering plate. They're interred at West Lawn, section 17. Their headstone is a red clay colored granite marker, over by the willow tree."

"I remember where, Ponyboy. For you and for your mother, I'll be happy to do this. Ponyboy, are you in trouble, son? Why cant you do this yourself?"

"I'm not in trouble, but I'm not exactly in town either. It's too long to explain. My brother, Sodapop, should be buried next to my parents, take one of the flowers and put it on his grave too, if you can. Will you do this for me, Father Bryce?"

"I already said I would, son. When you come home, come see me. And whatever has sent you away, remember home is not a building where you keep your clothes, it's where your blood lives. Your blood is here. Come home when you can, my son."

"Thanks, Father. I'll remember."

I hung up the phone and put $10 and a note scribbling my thanks on it for his help into an envelope. I knew Father Bryce would help me, I just hoped he'd keep it from Darry. The last time I had gone to services was years ago, when Johnny and I went and somehow corralled the guys with us. Of course they had to drop the hymnal, embarrassing me to no end and I never could face Father Bryce again. But he didn't forget his word, that he'd help. Now I could get on with my studies.

XXX

The next day....

White carnations...I see red roses, and red carnations...where are white carnations? I strolled around the floral shop taking my time while the young lady helped the young man at the counter. She was spending an awful long time helping him, but ahh, youth. He was a handsome young man, perhaps 19 or so years old. He was one of those hood boys, I can tell by the thinnest amount of grease in his light wheat gold hair, but he was courteous and well mannered. He smelled of grease and gasoline, and I suppose he had just gotten off from his place of employment. In my sidelong glance, I noticed his shirt had a local gasoline station logo on it. Finally she was finishing his sale, and I noticed at least he found the white carnations...he had one of them and two red ones. I hoped they weren't out, the other floral shop was way on the other side of town. He left the shop and got in his truck then the sales girl turned to me

"May I help you sir?" She asked me.

"Yes, please, do you have any white carnations left?"

"Yes, they're in the back, haven't had time to put them out yet. How many would you like?"

"Oh, I suppose 6, please." She rang up the sale and smiled, giving me back the change.

"Be right back. You can go ahead and fill out the complimentary card...they're by the register." The young lady disappeared behind the doors to the back of the shop to get the flowers, and I picked up a card and pen, not quite sure what to put on it. So, I just simply put down what I thought would be appropriate... "To Mama and Daddy, Love Always, Ponyboy"

XXX

Please forgive me, I know the name of their mother was never put in the book, so I used the name of my husbands mother, who died when he was only 7 years old. Insert your own name for her if you like. As far as picking the Catholic faith, I needed it for the secrecy factor, nothing else. Thanks for your understanding.

As for land prices, I actually called a realtor out in Montana, asking for the prices of land in Wolf Creek (yeah, it's a real place) for the 1960's, and that is what she quoted me. I didn't make it up. Calla Lilly


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Pony's Birthday

I slept in this morning – till almost 6:30. Yeah, that's not really sleeping in, but I had nervous energy.

I put on my running clothes and set out for my usual 8 miles. I was 17 years old now, or would be at 10:15, but who's counting minutes.

As I headed out of town I thought of my last 17 years. Most of them were pretty good ones. My teenage years so far have been the downside of my life, but things have gone pretty good here lately.

Rounding the lake, I thought of Darry and wondered what he would do today. I honestly had no idea. I hoped he was happy. It had become my pet answer when I thought of him, that I just hope he was happy. He deserved happiness.

Making my way around the corner and back into town, I saw Jean out by the diner. She waved, I waved, I kept on going.

Now Ashley... thinking of her, I nearly stumbled over my own two feet. Why did she turn me into a bumbling idiot? Maybe because her father is chair of the Art Department and I will be in his class next quarter? Maybe because he was someone with influence and connections? Maybe? I dunno.

I made it back to my apartment and took a shower. I shaved the inklings of roughness from my face – I still wasn't used to it but thankfully I didn't cut myself. Darry and Soda both had respectable five o'clock shadows by days end, I only needed to put a razor to my face once every few days. After dressing, I paced about, still antsy. Oh hell, I knew what I wanted to do, I just didn't know how to go about doing it. And no, it wasn't THAT.

Finally, unable to take it any longer, I picked up the phone.

"Information"

"Alfred Benning's listing, please."

I wrote down the number the operator gave me, and stared at it. _Okay, stupid, now you have her number, now call her!_ I thought to myself. _What if her dad answers the phone? Her mother?_ Oh** hell!** I was killing myself and I hadn't even dialed the first number yet! Okay, here goes.....

"Hello?" It was a woman, but not Ashley.

"Yes ma'am, is Ashley available?" I didn't even recognize my own voice, my throat had gone totally dry in an instant.

"Just a second... Ashley?" The phone line on their end became all muffled, but I could still hear well enough to make it out. "There's a boy on the phone for you."

"Hello?" The line was clear again and I recognized her voice.

"Hi Ashley, It's Michael. Is this a bad time to call?"

"Michael! No it's fine! I'm glad you did! What's up?"

"Would your parents mind if I take you out for lunch? A picnic?"

"A picnic... hmmmm, hold on."

She put the phone down and even though the voices had a far off quality to them, I could hear every word they said.

"Who's that boy, Ashley?" Asked her mom.

"A** boy**? Ashley Marie.... What's going on?" definitely her dad.

"Daddy, it's _Michael _– the student doing that work for Mr. Quinn. He wants to take me for a picnic. Please can I go?" -silence- "Oh _daddy,_ you_** know**_ Michael, he's sweet and considerate.....please?"

"Okay, but you be home by three – you understand young lady?!"

"Thank you, daddy!"

I doubt they knew I heard that whole conversation, like a blind fly on the wall. I just hoped I wouldn't get squished!

"Michael?" She was back on the phone.

"Yeah, so what's the verdict?"

"What time did you want to pick me up?"

Now, I thought. "Say tenish, that okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds great! Here's my address...."

I wrote it down and hung up. Great! Except now I felt all weird. But I was smiling. Even weirder.

Next I called Brookwood Realty back. I spoke with a Mr. Jordan, who was the guy I hung up on before. He didn't seem to mind, surprise surprise.

"Mr. Curtis! Glad you called back. I've had some other calls on that property, wanted to see if you would like to get in on the action."

I wasn't falling for it. That land has been listed for over a year now, I doubted anyone else had an offer on it. But, I threw my bid in anyway.

"I like the land, but I can't do $750 an acre. How about $600 an acre." I know I went lower than Mr. Roberts said to, but I wanted to see how this game was played.

"Oh, Michael, that's almost giving it away! But, I like you. I can drop it to $725 an acre, but thats as far as I can go!"

"Well, no thanks. Here's my number....... when you can at least work with me, call me. I have to go now, thanks Mr. Jordan."

I got changed into some nice clothes and brushed my teeth again, then headed out to Ashley's place. As I passed the land, it was as I had suspected – no one else was there. I don't remember much of the drive, but I suddenly found myself on her street. I saw Dr. Benning outside, mowing his grass, and he saw me too before I pulled up. He cut the mower off and waited for me.

"Michael... how are you?"

"Fine sir, thank you."

"Why don't we go inside, have a little chat and you can meet my wife."

I followed him inside feeling like a lamb being led to the slaughter. It was lunch, not an elopement, after all. Soda never told me about having to meet "the dad" on all his dates.

"How old are you, Michael?"

"Nineteen, sir."

He looked at me. "I thought you said you were eighteen?"

"Today's my birthday." I smiled sheepishly. At least that much was true.

"Happy birthday then. My daughter is 17. She's young, impressionable. You're older, more mature, and I do believe on your own, right?"

"Yes sir."

"Well then, I see how you take care of your drawings. They stay clean and put up, protected. They aren't stained or torn...damaged in any way...are they?"

"No sir, I take very good care of my belongings."

"Wonderful. I expect that same amount of care to be extended to my daughter. At all times. Is that understood?"

"Very clearly, sir." Man, was it clear!

Excellent! I understand you wish to take Ashley for a picnic. Where is this picnic's location?"

So much for plan "A." I was going to take her out to show her the land, but somehow I don't think her daddy would appreciate my taking his daughter out to the middle of no-where so I could ask her what she thought of the property, him thinking I had some other intention in mind...which I didn't. But he'd never believe me!

"I'm not familiar with this area, do you have a suggestion for it, sir?"

"There is a nice park in town, Cedarwood Park. She can show you how to get there. Have her back by 3, okay Michael?"

"Yes sir! Three o'clock. Thank you!"

Just then, a woman came in. I swear this was timed like a damned ballet!

"This is my wife, Eleanor Benning."

"Hello, Michael! So pleased to meet you. Alfred has been talking about your Eagle drawing nonstop. You should consider changing your major if you're that good!"

"Thank you, ma'am. It's nice of you to say."

"Well, you two run along. Don't forget, three o'clock, Ashley!"

"I will, mom. By daddy."

I held the front door open for her and walked her to my car, then held the car door open for her again as she got in. Once we were away from the curb I think I started to breathe again. Then I looked over at her and wasn't able to think anymore.

"Well, did he give you the third degree?"

"Huh?" I still wasn't thinking.

She laughed a little, smiling. "Daddy! Did he give you the third degree or what?"

"If that wasn't the third degree, I'd hate to see what is! How many times has he read the riot act to someone before?"

"If you're asking if I've been out before, well, yes. But only once. He was dull, brought me back home and that was it."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I meant..." I felt my face on fire. "He's pretty good at scaring people to death."

"Yeah, he is, isn't he? But he's all bark, no bite."

Easy for her to say! I looked over at her, she was smiling at me. I didn't know what to say again, amazed how she can shut me up fast. But I wasn't talking about verbally shutting me up, she made my brain shut down too. I turned down some main road where all kinds of food joints dotted the street. Oh yeah, food.

"What would you like to eat?"

She glanced around and picked out a sandwich shop. After getting our food from the drive thru, I asked her about Cedarwood Park.

"It's down there on the right..."

She gave me directions and I went where she pointed to, finally arriving at some park that had tables and chairs, play equipment for kids and a fountain in the middle. A very familiar looking fountain. _Christ, did every park have that same friggin' fountain?_ It put a squeeze in my stomach like nothing before. Wow, memories came flooding over me.

"Michael?"

I looked over at her. She looked at me confused, eyebrows crinkled.

"Are you okay?"

I took a breath and grabbed the food. "Yeah, just fine. Where do you want to sit?" I pushed, literally _forced _those memories from my mind, but it took effort.

We ate our sandwiches and fries, walked around the park and talked about stuff. School stuff mostly. She had already told me she was an honor student, which was predictable when your father is head of a college department. She lamented about the constant pressures her folks put on her for good grades, and man, I could relate. I just didn't. I let her have that spotlight.

"Are you into track or softball?" I asked.

"Me? Oh no. I can't hit or catch anything – I usually duck! I'm always the last one picked, but I don't care. What about you? What do you play?"

"I was in track. Had a few good years in it, won a few meets. Went to State a few times, won once or twice." I tried to play that down while still being honest.

"Wow! We have a good track team. No one qualified for anything over regionals though, and I think he graduated last year anyway."

"So what do you do then besides study?"

She turned slightly pink when she smiled at me. "I play piano. Corny, I know. But mom said I have 'piano hands,'" she held out her hands, fingers up as if to prove her point, "and thus I play."

"Are you good at it?"

She kept right on smiling, a little broader this time, as if trying to hold back a secret. "Yeah, I can bang out a few tunes with Beethoven if I had to." She laughed. I just grinned at her.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"What, being an honor student and tickling the ivories not enough? Well, there is one more thing, but I don't think I'm any good at it."

"Drawing?"

"No! That's my dad's passion. Singing. Mom says I have a 'gifted voice,' but that's her opinion. Personally, I think a frog sounds better!" She smiled and looked down.

"Somehow, I doubt it. Want some ice-cream?"

"Yeah, that's real nice of you, Michael. Thanks!"

I got us some cones at the ice cream stand in the park and we sat in the otherwise abandoned swings and ate them. Finally, it was time to get her back home and I held the door open for her as she got in. Ashley noticed some of my sketch books on the back seat and pulled one out.

"Can I look at these?" she asked.

"Sure, help yourself."

She opened it – of course it had to be the one of my parents. I felt my jaw tighten. Why THAT one?

"Wow, this is really, really good! Who are these people?"

"My folks."

"They must be so proud of you!"

"I hope so." I didn't say more. It was getting too personal.

"Wish we could go to the movies..." She looked at me and I shook my head.

"Your dad made it crystal clear that you were to be home by three, and I will have you home **by three.** You may _think_ he's all bark and no bite, but I'm the one who will have to sit in his class next quarter, and I'm not taking any chances at making him mad."

She looked hurt.

"But, maybe next weekend, once my class is done, we can go out to a movie together – if your dad allows it.

"I hope so, Michael. This has been so much fun..."

I pulled up at the curb in front of her house and walked her to the door. As expected, Dr. Benning was on the porch reading a magazine. After Ashley went in, he put his magazine down and looked at me.

"Did you two have a good time?"

"Yes sir, we did. Thank you for recommending the park, it was very nice."

"Well, wonderful."

"May I see her again next weekend, take her to a movie?"

"I'll talk it over with the wife, but I think it would be okay."

"Thank you, sir. Well, I'll see you on campus."

"Bye, Michael."

I got back in my car and headed back toward home. What a day, and it still wasn't over. I had to be at Mr. and Mrs. Roberts house for dinner at five. And to think I thought I would have nothing to do today!

XX

"Michael! So glad you made it! Come in!"

They had a whole spread out in front of me, never say the Roberts family wasn't a good one. They had burgers and hot dogs on the grill, macaroni salad, cole slaw and baked beans. I guess they were trying to copy a Texas style menu, but I didn't care. It was good, and I actually put worry aside and had a good time. Finally at a quarter of 8, I had to beg forgiveness and leave. They wrapped up leftovers and sent it with me, silly I know, I live above their garage and they had more room in their fridge than I had in mine, but I couldn't complain. I had a good day, a great day. I only missed a few people, a few people that would have made it a _**perfect **_day. I miss you Darry, Two-Bit, even you too, Steve.

I love you, Soda, where ever you are.

XXX

I hope there aren't any typo's, I'm sure I missed some. Calla Lilly


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Detective Work

Today had been the kids 17th birthday, and at least for me, nothing was right. Darry had been off from work, which to me was foolish – it just meant more time to dwell on the obvious. Soda came with me to the station for a few hours then left at noon, but even the little work he did get accomplished wasn't done with the usual flair. He had a lot on his mind - his upcoming EMT class was starting soon and I knew he'd be leaving here eventually for it. I was happy for him, yet pissed too. We were a team, but Vietnam screwed us all over.

Two-Bit was off doing his deliveries. He liked the job for the truck, and the freedom to drive all over Tulsa and get paid for it. At least he had finally found something he likes and did well, and got paid for it. Two-Bit would be the one of us to find a gob where he got paid to look busy when he wasn't.

It was finally 8 in the evening and I could close up shop. I grabbed my keys and headed out. I knew I could stay over at Darry's for as long as I wished, but the constant sadness in the house was more than even I could take. Hell, I'd rather have my dad ragging my ass than sit in sadness all day, and since I wasn't going back to my parents house, I had to find my own place. I had been renting a small shack of a house for a few months now, the land lady just wanted a warm body in it who paid the rent on time and kept out the riff raff. I don't know why she worried...no hoods I knew would bother coming around here for anything.

While this may be where I slept some nights, my rear end could usually be found over at the Curtis place. But with the kid gone, they needed time alone – today more than ever. I could feel their sadness, hell, it oozed out from the friggin windows and seeped out from under the doors. Even though we were all moving on with our own lives, a part of theirs refused to budge until he was found. We had looked _everywhere,_ and still had no clues.

So this being his birthday, I left them alone to do their grieving, or celebrating, or both at the same time. I knew Soda was planning on taking flowers to the cemetery for his parents in Pony's place. They had done that on each of their birthdays. Taking flowers over didn't make sense to me, but I wasn't one of them, a true Curtis. I hadn't grown up in a house filled with love of family and togetherness like them, so I didn't understand. It wasn't right, but things haven't been right in a long, long time. Stupid kid. Happy birthday, Ponyboy, where ever you are.

I still don't know why I went there, but I found myself walking up their steps and opening their door just the same.

Darry and Soda were seated opposite each other at the table, both wearing their swim trunks, a lit candle sat on the table and a bouquet of flowers between them. Neither of them spoke.

"Guys...what's up?" I asked. "Weren't you gonna take those to the cemetery?"

"We took ours," Soda said quietly. "These are from Ponyboy. We found them there."

You've _**got**_ to be kidding me. "What!"

I sat next to him and Darry handed me the flowers. The card had his name on it, clear as day. "Is he here?" I asked, getting up to find the kid and give him a piece of my mind for the shit he put us all through.

"No, Steve, he's not. We already checked." Darry called to me as I was half way down the hall. His room was as Soda had left it, nothing new in there. I came back and sat down.

"Then where...?"

"We don't know," Soda said, cutting me off.

"It's not his handwriting." Darry said. He'd know, for as much checking of the kids homework he'd done over the years.

"Then how..." Again I was cut off.

"We don't _**know**_, Steve." Soda was exasperated.

I looked at the flowers, the card and the paper. Floral paper. I had an idea.

"Mind if I unwrap them?" I asked, fearing I would get a solid whack on my head if I touched them without asking.

"Go ahead." Darry allowed.

I took my switch and cut the ribbon, then carefully opened the paper setting the flowers aside. They both watched me, intrigued. Smoothing out the paper, I saw a mark on the center of the tissue. In fancy script any girl would like, it said **Tulsa Florals**. It was the name of the floral shop downtown. I had been there a few times to get Evie flowers, to get her in the mood when my own charm wasn't enough.

With the tip of my blade, I pointed to the mark. "Flowers came from Tulsa Florals." They looked at me as if I had solved the Black Dahlia murder.

"Darry..." Soda started, getting up quickly.

"Slow down, Soda. Shops closed now. We'll go tomorrow." To me, he grinned and roughed me up some. "Thanks, Steve."

"Hey, date long enough, buy enough flowers, you figure a few things out!" I was glad I could help.

XXX

Darry and I went to Tulsa Florals alone in the morning. I took the flowers, tag and floral paper with me and when I walked in, I recognized the little flirt behind the counter.

"You're back! Want more carnations or shall we go for roses this time?"

"We need to ask you who you sold these to." Darry said while I showed her the stuff in my hands.

She looked bewildered.

"You sold them yesterday" I reminded her.

"I only sold 2 sets of carnations. One set to you, another to a Priest. Everyone else wanted roses."

I looked at Darry. A _**Priest**_?? He seemed as perplexed as I did.

"You sure a 17 year old guy didn't buy them?" Darry asked.

She smiled, confident. "He was a Priest. His keychain had the Virgin Mary on it. I may be confused by a lot, but he wasn't a 17 year old guy, more like a 57 year old man"

"What did he look like?" I coaxed.

"Hmmm, bout your height," she pointed at Darry, 'white hair, little plump... Sorry, it's all I can think of."

"Thanks," I said. I looked at Darry.

He shook his head and walked out to the truck. I put the card, ribbon and paper in the glove box. Later, we'll take the flowers back to mom and dad.

"Any ideas, Soda?" He asked me. "Or shall I start going to every church in town."

"That would make mom happy!" I said laughing. "As many times as she tried to get us to go to St. Mary's! Only Pony would....go....there....." I had to have turned pure white. I had just realized something, and Darry realized it too. We scrambled in the truck and pealed out of the floral lot, headed back to church – for the first time in years.

XXX

Had the building gotten bigger since we where here last? Wow, it was huge. Soda and I entered through the doors and looked around. The place was vaguely familiar. Mom played the piano here years ago. Ponyboy would come and watch. He didn't realize it was church – he just came to watch her play. He thought all the people came to see mom too. He was really little then. As we walked up the center isle, I had a flashback of their caskets in the front. My brothers sobbing profusely at my sides. I had vowed to protect them. Some great job I did. One shot up in a war the other missing for almost a year. All the Saints staring down on me from the stained glass weren't helping me feel any better either, and seeing the Lord on the crucifix in front of the alter only made it worse.

"May I help you, my son?" A nun came out of nowhere.

"Yes, Sister, we need to speak to the Priest, please."

"Wait here, I'll get Father Bryce for you." And she quietly walked away. I noticed Soda at the candles and saw him light one. I didn't think he'd remember the correct procedure, he had never paid attention to it when he was little, and we hadn't been to services regularly since I was around 16 years old.

"Soda, how'd you remember that?" I whispered.

"Figured we could use all the help we could get." He whispered back.

I hoped he wasn't gonna jump in the confessional next. That would take a year or so to rattle off everything on his slate.

"Boys, the Sister said you asked for me? I'm Father Bryce."

"Hello, sir. My name's Darrel Curtis. This is my brother, Sodapop. We need to ask you about these..." Soda held out the flowers.

When I introduced myself, I noticed the Priest's smile fall a little, at Soda's name, it almost disappeared. As Soda held out the flowers, the look on his face was as if the Anti Christ had just walked in. He rubbed his forehead and tried to look natural, but it was game over as far as I was concerned. He knew.

"Father Bryce, sir, do you have an office we can take this to?"

He nodded and walked behind the alter area to a door unseen from the pews. We followed him.

XXX

"Have a seat, boys. My, you've grown since I last saw you. How are you, Darrel? Sodapop?"

"Sir," Darrel said, taking a seat across from me, his brother next to him, those flowers still held carefully in his hand.

"We're doing fine. Someone left these at our parents grave yesterday, and with a little detective work, we've been led here. Please help us. You match the description of the Priest buying the flowers. I'm just going to be blunt. It's been ten miserable months of searching, tears, nightmares, dead ends, trips out of town, agony – not just for me but for my brother and our friends. I can tell you know something from the expression you have on your face. Where is he, Father, where is Ponyboy?"

I haven't had such an internal struggle since I took up the cloth. I've ministered to abused women, pregnant girls, alcoholics and drug addicts without this much anguish. All these boys wanted was a simple _where_, and I couldn't give it to them even if I _did_ know. Ponyboy didn't tell me where he was, only asked me to put the flowers out there for him. Every fiber in my body told me to tell them this, but my vows told me I couldn't.

"Why did he leave, Darrel?"

"I was drafted into the war," Soda spoke up instead. "They sent a letter saying I was killed and apparently Ponyboy was alone with he got it. Obviously, they were mistaken. Pony ran away before anyone could stop him, let him know it was a mistake. He's been gone, like Darry said, for ten months now. We have literally looked everywhere, covering the entire state searching. We've gone out of state, following leads until they were all gone. You have the answers. Please, Father, **PLEASE** help us. He doesn't know I'm alive, that's why he ran off in the first place. He thinks I'm dead. If he knew the truth, he'd return. Please...."

I sat there looking at these two young men in the eye, my heart bursting with the desire to tell them everything, which, albeit is very little. But I couldn't. My vow wouldn't let me.

"Boys. I'm sorry. I can't help you." The looks on their faces went from pleading eyes to pure pain and untold rage. I have never felt so helpless in my life. "I don't know where he is, but I will pray for him. Is there anything else I can do?"

I watched as the two men got up and made their way to my door.

"No, Father. Thank you for your time." Darrel said. As the door closed, I said a prayer, for strength and forgiveness.

XXX

We got no further than six feet from his door before Soda laid in on me.

"Darry, we can't just _leave_! He knows..."

"Stop, Soda. In the truck, wait till we're in the truck." I pushed him along, but it was like pushing a salmon back downstream when all it wants to do is go up.

I thought he was going to explode once we got the doors closed. He ranted and raged and I let him, fully feeling the same way he did but just not showing it. I waited until he settled down before speaking.

"Soda, he cant say anything. If Pony's holding him to vows, than he'll never reveal what he's holding back. Never. He was mom's Priest for Christ sake. Why else do you think Pony picked him to help him. Getting angry won't help, but feel free to get it out of your system if you have to, just don't do it in there!"

He looked at me, close to tears.

"Soda," I said, trying to use reason. "It tells me he's okay. It tells me he's safe. It tells me he's fed. Now that the Priest knows you're alive, I'm pretty sure he'll tell Pony, next time Pony reaches out for help. It brings us closer to getting him home." I started the engine and looked at Soda again. "You lit the candle, now have a little faith!"

XXX

I never intended this to get religious...it wont go further than this. I'm not Catholic, so I may have a few things wrong. Please forgive me those errors. I hope you are still enjoying the story. Calla


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Girl Trouble

It had been a full week since Pony's birthday, and I still wanted to go back to that church and demand answers, but knew Darry was right. At least we had someone who Pony trusted that could tell him I was alive if he contacted him again. I just wished he'd contact us! We're his family, after all.

I had to keep my focus. I was starting my EMT class today, and was all excited and nervous as hell. My one chance for the brass ring, and I wasn't going to let this get by me. Darry had dropped me off on the campus and I made my way to building 8.

I didn't know what I'd expect, I guess some huge auditorium like setting where you sit by the hundreds in little chairs taking notes, but this was like a regular classroom, where you sit at a table with someone else. A while later a brunette sat next to me. "Hi, I'm Patty. This the EMT class?"

"Yeah." I said.

"Good. I thought I was lost." She smiled, then reached in her bag and pulled out her pen and a notebook. "What's your name?" She asked.

"Sodapop." I noticed she had light brown, almost gold eyes. The class was filling up, everyone sat 2 at a table.

"Well, Sodapop, looks like we're going to be partners... unless you don't want to be."

"No, Patty," I said, smiling back at her, "I think this is going to work out fine!"

Mr Tanner came in, gave formal introductions and went over the class format. We had our textbooks and workbooks, and started where all things start, at the beginning....

XXX

"So how was class?" Darry was asking me while making dinner.

I smiled, I couldn't help it. Darry put down the spatula and came over to me, bending over my book facing me, coming nose to nose with me. "Soooo daaaaa? What did you do today?" I had to be red now. Darry could always read me, just like I could read Pony.

"My class partner's name is Patty..."

"Oh hell, Soda...you're supposed to be going to class to learn, not pick up a girl!"

He looked disappointed in me. "Darry, I swear, I _am_ going to class to learn. She ain't all over me, like the girls at the DX are." He still gave me the evil eye, but went back to the kitchen.

"This is your one shot, buck-o. You better not fuck this up."

"I wont, I wont. I swear Darry." I got up and went to the kitchen. He was stirring the gravy like he was mad at it. "Please Darry. I need you to believe in me, or I'm sunk. I can't do this alone. She's my lab partner, it's not like we're screwing on the tables between classes."

Darry put the spatula down and looked at me. "Pony sent that money so you could achieve something that _he isn't getting_. I know how hard a time you have with school, Soda. I just don't want you distracted by anything until you have finished your classes and have earned that EMT certification. Then you can date_ Miss Patty_ to your hearts content!"

"I ain't in high school, Darry. Are you _really_ giving me rules on who I can see?"

"If I recall, Soda, you are the one who gave up on high school the_ first_ time around. It took war to send you back." Darry said icily.

"And I went back! And finished! Why don't you believe in me?"

"I _do_ believe in you, Soda! But I don't want to see you screw this up, and girls tend to screw you up!"

"**She. Isn't. Sandy**. Darry! She's just my class partner!"

"Good! Make sure in a month you still feel that way, cause if your mind starts to wander, you'll never complete this program! You may never get another chance like this! Don't you damn well blow it!"

Silence. I suddenly realized we weren't alone in the house. Darry and I both looked in the living room, where Two-Bit and Steve stood slack-jawed at us. I don't know how long they had been there, but it was obviously long enough. Darry went back to cooking dinner and I got my books and took them to my room. I finished my chapter, did my questions and by then, dinner was done.

We four sat there in silence, only the noises of forks clinking on plates and glassware being sat down disturbing the peace.

"Did you finish your work, Soda?" Darry asked me.

"Yes." I answered without any tone.

"Let me check it." I realized then that I had become my brother, the student. At first, for a second I resented it and was going to protest. But then, I thought about it longer. Ponyboy didn't do bad with school as long as Darry helped. Oh, Pony was smart enough to do it alone, but Darry just made it better – made sure he got _all_ of it. I would need that. Plus, this was the only way Darry knew_ how_ to help. So, I let him. I brought him my books and he read it over. Then he seemed pleased.

"Not bad, Soda. Not bad at all." An olive branch extended.

I knew I would have to prove to him I could do this...not just pass but do well. I did it in Vietnam with bullets whizzing by me, I could do it here. I could do this for me. And have Patty for a class partner, too.

XXX


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Glances

I had my final in my math class today, and I was glad the term was finally over. I made an 83 on it, the scores being posted an hour after we finished the exam. I suppose the professor was just as eager to get the term over with as the rest of us. That made my average an 86, a solid "B." I was happy with it.

As I made my way to my car, I saw Ashley waiting in the gazebo nearby. She was reading a book, but looked up as I walked nearer.

"Hey Michael. How was your test?"

"Good. I scored a 'B' in the class."

"That's great! You said it was a hard class."

"Well it certainly wasn't like high school, that's for sure!"

"Hey, don't scare me – I'll have to take the same class next year when I'm a freshman, ya know?"

"You can have my notes. Whatcha reading?" I asked, looking at her book.

"This? Oh, Jane Eyre. I've read it before but it's a favorite of mine."

I looked like a 'favorite book'. I had plenty of those back at Darry's, books with similar worn, creased covers and dog-eared pages. I wondered what he had done with my small library of paper backs.

"Do you have any plans?" I asked suddenly.

"Plans for what?" She asked.

"For the day. Do you have to be anywhere right now?"

"Nah. I have to be home by six, but that's about it."

"Will you go for a drive with me. I want to show you something."

"Yeah," her face brightened, "I'll go."

"It's out of town though. Should I go ask your dad first?"

"Nah. As long as I'm home by six, I'll be fine. I'm not a kid ya know. I _am_ 17."

I opened the car door for her and she got in. Before closing the door, I stopped and looked at her. "When _was_ your birthday, anyway?"

"Last month, June 16." She said, putting on her seat belt.

_So_, I thought,_ she's only a month older. That's tuff._ I started the car and headed out on Brokenridge Highway.

"Where are we going?" She asked after a few minutes.

"I want to show you something." I looked at her. She had a skeptical look on her face. "Just a piece of dirt I found." She wasn't convinced. I smiled at her bewilderment. "If you want, I can turn around and take you back instead."

"No... I trust you. I don't _understand _you, but I trust you." She sat back and looked out at the passing scenery.

"Do you have your license yet?" I asked, just to make conversation.

"To drive? No. Daddy wants me to wait. Said, 'A lady doesn't need to be driving a car until she has a need to be behind the wheel'. I use my bike if I have to go anywhere far, or walk. How old were you when you got your license?"

"Sixteen," I said, then jerked a little realizing what I'd said.

"Wow! That long ago! Your parents must really trust you, driving so young."

"Well...." I said, starting to sweat. "I always feel like they're with me."

"Where's home for you?" She asked.

"Oklahoma," I said, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

"Bet you sure miss your family. Got any sisters or brothers?"

"One brother, no sisters. He's still in Oklahoma. We sort of lost touch." Finally the stand of maples came near, and I turned the car onto the driveway. "Well, we're here," I said, getting out.

"What do you mean, 'here'?"

"I pass this going to school every day. What do you think of it?" I said, opening her door for her.

She giggled. I looked at her, frowning.

"I'm sorry," she said, smiling when the giggles faded. "You weren't kidding when you said you wanted to show me 'dirt'. I didn't know what you were talking about." She walked around me, headed up to the hill. I closed her door and followed her.

She was looking over to the west, which faced away from the road. She had her arms folded across her chest and her hands on her arms, as if she were cold. _She couldn't have been cold_, I thought. _It was a good 85 degrees if not warmer out_.

"Are you cold?" I asked. She turned her head and looked at me, smiling.

"No, just thinking. I bet this is really pretty in the fall, what with all the maples, oaks and cedars out here."

"I'm thinking about buying it." I said, putting it out there.

"With what? Land isn't cheap, especially nice land like this."

"I know. But I have some money saved. Enough for a down payment." _Or more. _I thought. But I couldn't tell her that.

"Well, it's lovely out here." She was quiet for a moment, just looking off down the hill. "If you ever build a mansion on it, invite me over sometime!"

I stared at her. The light filtering through the trees hit her face in such a way that lit up her hazel eyes and made her sandy hair shine. She must have noticed my lack of response and honestly, I had forgotten what she had asked. She turned her head to me and smiled.

"Mike?"

That snapped me out of my daze. "Yeah?"

"Anything else out here besides dirt to see?"

"No, nothing out here for miles and miles."

She turned and stood next to me, eyes open and smiling shyly, head down ever so slightly. I just looked at her, trying to figure this out. She stood there a full minute then said softly, "I guess we better get back."

"I guess so." I returned, almost lost in her eyes.

XX

I dropped her off in front of her house as Dr. Benning came outside.

"Ashley, Michael.... I didn't know you were coming by today, Michael." He said to me, shaking my hand. Ashley went on inside and closed the door.

"Sorry about that, sir. I hope I'm not intruding. Ashley wanted to ask about my math class seeing as how she plans to take it next year for herself, and then I drove us around for a while."

"You still keeping your artwork clean and unspoiled, right, son?" He asked, sternly.

"Yes sir. Always." I made sure I looked him straight in the eye on that answer. I knew from our first house- bound encounter exactly what artwork he was referring to.

"Good. You had asked about taking her out Saturday? That's fine. What movie will you be seeing?"

She had mentioned a recent movie about a singing nun and a whole bunch of kids. It definitely wasn't my type of picture. Even if my image had changed and I was older, that was still too rank of a film for me to ever choose to go to alone, but she wanted to go so I gave in without complaint. "_Sound of_ _Music_, I think that's the title."

He grinned. "She's been going on about that picture for a while. You kids enjoy the movie. Come by at noon to get her. I'll see you then." He turned to go in.

"Thank you, sir." I called, and got back in my car. I hoped the movie would be something besides boring, but at least I'd have good company.

I made it back to my apartment with just enough time to call the realtor.

"Hello, Mr. Jordan. This is Michael Curtis, calling about that land again. Any changes?"

"Well, the owners went down to $700 an acre. That's a steal of a price, Michael. I never thought they'd drop it that low. What would you like me to tell them?"

"Tell then $650 an acre and they pay closing costs. I'll call you next week or you can call me sooner if they agree."

He sighed over the phone, hearing his commission getting lower and lower. "Michael, that's probably too low. That land is _very valuable._ Why don't you take their offer?"

"Just tell then what I offered, and I'll call you next week." I said. I wasn't being angry or pushy, but I wanted the best price I could get. I'd leave it to chance on whether they would agree to it or not.

Then I worked on those other two book illustrations. I used bright, bold colors in one of them, and pastels in the other. I moved the text around the page so it wouldn't be so boring to the eye. It wasn't work that would hang in the Louvre, but I was happy with it. I just hoped Mr. Quinn would be happy too. It was his opinion that mattered anyway, not mine.

XXX

Saturday I made my way back to see Ashley. While she was upstairs getting ready, Mrs. Benning was talking with me in the kitchen. She handed me a glass of tea and I sipped it politely. I hated tea.

"So Ashley says your family is in Oklahoma?"

Can I mention again my nervousness? Any questions on my past sent waves of fear through me. "Yes, ma'am. I was raised there until I moved here, almost a year ago." Had it really been a year almost?

"What does you father do?" She smiled politely.

"He worked for the Department of Transportation out of Tulsa, building roads and highways." So far, I wasn't lying.

"And what of your mother?"

I could feel my neck getting warmer. I couldn't tell if it was the late summer heat or my nerves on edge. "Mom played piano for the church choir and otherwise raised my brothers and I." Oh mom, give me strength!

"Piano! How lovely! Ashley plays piano quite beautifully!"

"She told me she played. What type of piano do you have? A grand or an upright?"

"Why Michael... I'm surprised you knew the types. We have a baby grand." She just smiled at me and I sipped more of that awful tea. Finally Ashley came in and I got up.

"Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Benning. I'll have her home by six...."

"You two have a good time." She called out to us.

XXX

I bought the tickets and drinks, and we found some seats toward the back of the theater. As the lights went down and the movie started, I tried my best to pay attention to the screen, but this movie was not my type. _At all_. Even the poorly done Nazi roles weren't convincing enough to keep my interest piqued. Eventually, I found myself stealing glances at how her eyes shined against the glare from the movie screen, how her smile lifted her face.

I suddenly felt her soft hand in mine, her fingers curling around my own and holding them - not tightly and yet not limp either. I reciprocated the touch, being as gentle as I dared. She smiled when I held her hand, her gaze had never once left the screen in front of us. I felt her fingers, they were long and thin, but strong too. Definitely piano hands. I wondered what my own hands felt like.

As the credits rolled off the screen, we walked out of the theater and headed down the sidewalk, her hand still in mine. It was a sunny day, breezy and warm. We walked in silence as I didn't know what to say. My brain had gone to mush again. Finally, she broke the silence.

"That was a good movie, thanks for bringing me to see it."

"You're welcome. Thanks for being such great company."

She stopped in front of some store front and stood so close to me, smiling softly. I could feel my heart slowing in my chest, each thump ringing in my ears. I was so close to her I was afraid if I stepped in any direction, I'd end up stepping on her feet. I wasn't sure I really wanted to move away at all. I was all caught up in her eyes, unable to process thoughts of any other type. I knew if I didn't move soon, she'd notice I'd had more than a fleeting private moment of amatory thoughts that didn't stay captive in my brain. My body was physically processing thoughts of its own without my consent.

Just as the moment for me to move closer into her or retreat back had arrived, the shop door swung open and a cool blast of air hit us full on. We had been standing in the doorway to the ice cream shop, and some lady with three small kids was leaving. I moved out of the way, allowing them to pass, and I kept it open for Ashley to enter.

"Why thank you, monsieur!" She said to me as she stepped inside.

"You're quite welcome, mademoiselle!" I replied, ever so relieved the shop was cool inside. We ordered milkshakes and sat down to drink them.

"So, do you speak French too?" She asked me after a moment of very awkward silence.

"No," I grinned. "Foreign languages weren't exactly standard course of instruction in my school." I couldn't really explain that folks on my side of Tulsa could barely pass an English course, let alone tackle a foreign language. " I got it from a movie. I take it you do?"

"No, not fluently. I'm working on it though. Thanks for the milkshake." She said, placing her index finger on mine, as I had left my hands on the table top after fiddling with an empty straw wrapper.

"Your welcome, again." I said, catching her finger between two of mine and holding it gently. We sat like that, sipping our milkshakes and not saying a word for a while, just letting our fingers slowly wrap themselves around each others hands again.

When we finished the drinks, I took her home. I needed a break and I guess she did too. I watched her go in her house before I pulled away from the curb and headed back home. The whole way there, I kept wondering what I'd have done if that lady with the kids hadn't picked that very moment to leave the shop. I wonder. I just wonder.

XXX

Whew! I really hope you folks are enjoying my story. I know some of you are getting tired of it, it's long and involved, but I hope it's still moving along at an enjoyable rate. Time will speed up soon, but if it is to be worth your time to read, then I need to get in all the things to make it right. I want them all reunited too. I hope you will bear with me. Thanks! Calla


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Soda

Darry had been wrong about Patty. Yeah, she was a looker, but she was by no means searching for a date. She was in class everyday with her notebook, pen and text ready to learn. We chatted between lectures and sometimes went to the cafeteria together for lunch, but she was here to learn, nothing else. I was too. It found it nice to be able to talk about school stuff with her, but as soon as I tried to broaden the subjects to things outside of class... she would hesitate and back off. She never would tell me anything about herself. I learned to leave it, and take what I could get.

We had gone over how to check vital signs – noting a persons heart rate, respiratory rate and blood pressure, and studied the various things that can cause them to go out of whack. We covered splinting arms and legs if they were injured, and how to strap patients to gurneys for transport. Mostly it was the same things I had done in Vietnam, but over there I was shown _how _to do it...to make it instinct. See blood, put a bandage on it, apply pressure and get them out of the danger. Here I was taught _why _to do it. The logic behind it. It was like completing the education I started almost a year ago in boot camp when they selected me for the job as medic.

However, here I had to take a test on it. A real written test. That scared me because I was not good at testing. Over there, the test was life...if you did it right, the soldier stood a good chance at living, depending on how bad the injury was, and I was usually real good at controlling blood loss. But here, the test was on paper, and it was harder to get a handle on. I was beside myself with worry, tapping my pencil relentlessly on the table. I guess it unnerved Patty, because she turned to me and gave me some real good advice.

"Oh Soda, you'll do fine. Look, think of each test question like a conversation. You have no problem chatting it up with anyone in the class about how to do anything we've covered, and you know it. So, just pretend the paper is asking you questions on how to do stuff, or me asking you what you would do if this or that happened. You_ know_ the material... I'm sure you'll do fine."

She was right. I took my test using her advice and it worked. I did surprisingly well on it, 92. When I got my paper back I just stared at it. Never had I done so well before. Not even in high school...except for auto mechanics and gym.

"Well?" She looked at me later as we were wrapping up for the day, a quizzical smile on her face. "How'd ya do?"

I turned my paper to her. "92! I've never done this well in anything, well, except for some stuff in high school." I smiled, turning it back to look at it again.

"I told you that you would do fine."

"I have you to thank for it. You want to have lunch with me?" I asked all of a sudden.

She looked at me, staring hard at first then looked down. "I cant. I'm meeting someone for lunch. But thanks for the offer."

I was disappointed, no denying it. But I let it go.

"I'll see you tomorrow though, okay?" She said, gathering her things.

"You bet. See you in the morning." I waited a minute and gathered my own stuff to leave. Since Patty was busy, I'd skip lunch and get on to work.

School was only for 8 weeks, each day from eight in the morning till noon. After that, I'd be taking the EMT certificate exam. Provided I passed that, I thought I'd try for a position at the hospital dispatch office where the EMT's get called out of. Until then, I'd catch the bus and get to work back at the DX.

I held my paper high as I walked into the station. "Hey Steve!" I yelled. He rolled out from under a Chevy he was fixing the transmission on and looked up.

"Hey Soda. What's got you so loud?"

"Check it out... a 92!" I called, tapping the paper for emphasis. I went into the back and got my work shirt and hat from my locker as he took it from me.

"No kidding? Hey, Soda – this is great!" He smiled at me – I hadn't been this happy in a while. I took my test and folded it up, putting it in my book in my locker. I couldn't wait to show Darry later.

"So how are things with Patty coming along?" He asked me as I tucked in my shirt. I looked at him. My expression said it all. "That bad, huh? I've never known a chick to not fall for you, what's wrong with her?"

"She's busy. I asked her to lunch, but she had plans. Besides, she's just my class partner, nothing else."

"Yeah, right. That's why you talk about her nonstop once you get here. I swear, Soda, you'd better get to the bottom of this. How much longer do you have before your class is done?"

"It's finished at the end of September, another 6 weeks away."

_DING DING_ The sound of the bells as someone pulled up to the pumps got our attention_._

"Well, got to get to work!" I went out to do fill- ups and change the oil on the cars in the service lanes, while Steve went back to the transmission on the Chevy. While my hands stayed busy on the cars, my mind wandered back to Patty and why she wouldn't see me. Then I realized that Darry was right. My head was getting distracted. I'd better pull it together or I _would_ screw this up. Last thing I wanted was to ruin what I had worked this hard for, and really let Darry down again in the process. _Okay, Patty_, I thought. _I'll let you go for now, but once the final is over... I'm gonna ask you out in earnest._

XX

Man, my arms hurt, my back ached. I'm getting too old to haul up roofing like I do. But, I'm stuck. These are my only skills – roofing and construction. Building things with my hands. My now calloused hands. This certainly wasn't what I planned on doing five years ago when I graduated from high school. I should have graduated from college by now with my own degree. But I'm still here, doing manual labor at 23 years old. I make a good wage, but I'm still scraping the bottom of the barrel. Pony had sent the money for me to go to school. That kid brother of mine sure is smart. It was plenty of money to live off of while taking classes. I just never imagined he'd be trying to support me though. That's why I didn't use the money –_ I was supposed to be taking care of him_, not the other way around. I couldn't bring myself to use it...any of it.

I didn't mind Soda using the money for school though. His classes didn't cost that much anyway, and it was only an eight week course. I was proud of him, going back and starting over. He really was giving it his all. He had his books out on the table going over them every night when I got home, and the week he went over bandaging wounds, the guys had walked in on him wrapping me up mummy style. He wouldn't quit, though, despite everyone laughing about it behind him and I had to give him credit for it. He wasn't giving up. The guys were laughing their asses off at me, but Soda pinned them down next and had them done up in a similar fashion before the night was done.

I'm really grateful to the guys. They have supported him throughout all the troubles in his life. It's been a hard road for Soda since our parents died. He became the other surrogate parent for Pony without being asked, gave up his schooling, took a full time job, weathered the storm of Pony's first disappearance and Sandy's unfaithfulness at the same time, then took his Vietnam drafting like a man. I'm still grateful that Steve saved him, I know full well he wouldn't be here with me if not for Steve. I think having Pony being gone was worse than the fear of anything that could have happened to him in Nam. This situation was totally out of his control, and I still don't think he has forgiven me that Pony left on my watch. I haven't gotten over it either, but I've come to live with it. I have to. I still miss him, so much it hurts.

I wonder what that youngest brother of mine is doing. Even though we've almost lived our whole lives without it, I know money isn't everything. I hoped he wasn't off spending it like it would bring him happiness. You can't buy happiness. Yeah, you can buy stuff that might make you happy for a while, but nothing that will stay with you. I thought he understood that, from reading that theme he did 2 years ago. He knew the soc's were as miserable as the greasers, but they could hide it better under the wealth they had. They just had the opportunity to _get out _of the hell they were in once they could go to college and make something of themselves, whereas greasers were doomed by finances to stay in the rut we existed in. Growing old if we were lucky, otherwise meeting similar fates like Dally. Dally _chose_ that end, I just wished he hadn't chosen it in front of my brothers. Pony was never the same after it. I was too much death all at once.

I had fought so hard for him to do well in school, trying to impart the importance of knowledge on him. Perhaps I pushed _so _hard he decided to prove me wrong. That he would try to make it without any further education. I've checked with the school board a few times over the last year to see if he had requested his school records so he could re-enroll somewhere else, but he hadn't. Yeah, I wanted to use it to find him... grab him up in a bear hug and never, _ever_ let go again. But also to know that _he _hadn't given up on himself. To know that he was still trying to succeed in life, even if he felt _I _failed him. He should know how much that diploma should mean to him, it was his ticket to go to college. Soda learned the lesson the hard way, I learned it from experience. I wondered how Pony would learn it.

When that fortune he's sitting on runs dry, and it will eventually, he's going to be left so empty. I don't want this chance to run out on him too, but I have no way of telling him this. That's why I haven't touched the money. I let Soda use some of it to get his classes taken care of but otherwise, it's Pony's money. He'll have a college fund here for him, ready to use whenever he comes back. I'll always take him back – no matter how long it takes.

XX

"Hey Darry!" Soda made taco's for dinner. I was hungry as I came in and the food was already on the table. I washed up and joined him. Something was up... his eyes were dancing around his skull like no tomorrow.

"Soda...something going on I should know about?"

He smiled and handed me a folded up paper. Opening it up, I saw his test score.

"Hey! This is great, little buddy! A 92...excellent!" I grinned at him, punching him on the arm. He smiled appreciatively.

"Darry," he said, settling down a little, "you're right. Thank you for your help. Class ain't over, and I'm still gonna need your help... but thanks in advance."

I didn't really know what he was talking about, but I also knew he hadn't been this happy and yet serious at the same time in a long while. I let it go. "You're welcome, Soda. I'm here for ya. Just let me know what I can do."

We ate the rest of dinner in relative silence.

XX

The next two months passed as the previous two weeks had. Soda worked hard on his class materials, doing moderately well on his tests. He never failed any of them – he never aced any of them either. He cooled his jets over that lab partner of his, and continued working at the DX in the afternoons.

Eventually it had to end. August had given way to September and the days rolled by until it was time to take his final test. Once he passed it he would get his certificate to be an EMT. We were all on pins and needles for him. Two hours after going in to take the test and a couple dozen hands of gin rummy with the guys in the parking lot later, Soda emerged from the building looking down.

As he came nearer, he was shaking his head. "I'm sorry guys," he started. "Steve, I hate to do this to you, but I'm gonna have to leave the DX."

We looked at him again. Suddenly his eyes twinkled and his face broke out in a smile spreading ear to ear. "I passed! I scored an 89. I did it!"

"Whoo -ya!" We screamed. I picked him up and spun him around. He laughed and put his arms up triumphantly. I sat him down again and looked at the certificate he handed me from a folder.

There was his name, **Sodapop Patrick Curtis, EMT**, in bold print on the certificate. I hugged him again and looked at the heavens._ Okay, Mom and Dad... here's one down. Lead me to the other one and I promise you, I'll get the job done. Somehow._

XX

My thanks to Samarley for pointing out a glaring oops in Soda's chosen field. EMT's back in the 60's here in the states were basically glorified ambulance drivers, little training and no organization to it. They weren't even called EMT's, After some midnight research on my own, I refreshed my aging knowledge on the field I once participated in. The medical community found that the survival rates for soldiers wounded in Nam were better than the rates for injured people here in the states. The military medics were trained in dealing with combat injuries, whereas here, there was very little training. It wasn't until late 60's and early 70's that real training and organization got going. So, please just let it ride the wave of fanfiction fantasy, as I cant go back and change it. I did however, for the sake of trying to keep it real, remove a lot of training that a real EMT would go through, like placing airways and IV's. Yes, IV's were part of military training...but NOT a part of civilian training...not yet. Thank you, Samarley, for your valuable input. I hope Scout is feeling better, by the way.


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

Meetings

August 28 had finally come around. I was driving out to Martinsburg where Mr. Quinn's office was located. He wanted me to meet him there and keep the college out of it. I had the three books he gave me and my sketch pads containing the re-drawn work safely in the seat next to me. Tomorrow was my deadline to submit these to Mr. Quinn, but I had classes and couldn't go, so I made the appointment for today.

Whereas I had grown accustomed to the quiet ways of Wolf Creek and the somewhat busy side of Pembroke, Martinsburg was every bit as hectic as downtown Tulsa, if not more. It took me a while to find his office, in a high rise building no less. I parked my car hoping it wasn't the last time I'd see it, fearing it'd get towed or stripped while I was inside. Steve would have had a field day here, I thought looking around. Hub caps as shiny and different from any others I'd seen before were on all the cars around mine. However, I locked my car and went inside, pushing the eighth floor button on the elevator.

"Ahhh Michael...come in!" Mr. Quinn greeted me. It was a small two room office. He had a secretary out front in the smaller room, looking bored as hell as she filed her nails. She pointed me into the bigger room with her file as I entered the door. "I'm eager to see what you've done!"

I handed him my sketch pads and the books he gave me that corresponded to the stories. He opened them one at a time, studying them closely. I couldn't read his expression which was unusual for me. I couldn't tell if he either really hated it or he liked it, as he only seemed perplexed by my work. I sat down on a couch behind the door without being invited to and just waited.

Finally, he went to the door and looked at the secretary. "Call Donald for me, Clara." She put her file down and picked up the phone. A few minutes later the phone on Mr. Quinn's desk rang and he picked it up.

"Hey Donald? Yeah, this is John. Hey look, I've got an illustrator here who has reworked my books. Can you come down and take a look? … Great! Bye."

I looked at him, tired of waiting. "Do you like them, Mr. Quinn?" I finally asked.

He looked up at me and nodded. "You definitely have a talent, Michael. Alfred was right about you." I was flattered but also concerned. What else was said about me in my absence?

The door opened and another man walked in. Mr. Quinn looked up then stood as this man walked over to him. I stayed put.

"Donald, this is Michael...." The new person, Donald, turned to look at me behind him and came over, hand extended. "....Michael, Donald Buckner, my agent."

Okay, now I got up. He was an agent and I still had my own manuscript to publish. I shook his hand as he searched my face. Uh oh, I knew that look. Here we go again...

"Hello, Michael. How old are you?"

"Nineteen." Damn, if I were Pinocchio, I'd have my own forest hanging off my face by now.

"Wow! So young! Lets see this talent for myself." He took one of the other sketch pads and went through it, page by page. It was a relatively quiet meeting. They spent an hour looking everything over and pointing at things to each other, talking quietly so I couldn't hear. I was basically a cushion on the couch as far as they were concerned.

Finally, they asked me to lunch. "That sounds fine, sir." What was I supposed to say? _No_? I think not. We headed back to the first floor and walked across the street to some fancy steak house. They ordered, then I ordered, then when the waitress left, they both looked at me.

"We like it, Michael." Mr. Buckner said. "We want to use it. I understand though that you don't want monetary payment for your work. That's very unusual. Explain to me what you are requesting."

"I have a manuscript that has been rejected a few times." Boy, when I said that the look on Mr. Buckner's face went to amused disbelief. He slightly shook his head and glanced at Mr. Quinn. I guess I wasn't the first person that's tried this, but I had to try something. "I'm not saying you have to publish it, I just want someone to read it and tell me honestly if it's good enough for publishing."

Mr. Buckner mulled it over. "I only do children's fiction. Is that your target audience?"

"No, teenagers, mostly... older teens. Young adult. It's got some violence, a murder."

Again, silence. The food arrived and we ate for a while. Then he swallowed and looked at me. "I think Melissa would be a good bet for you. I'll warn you though, we already have an overload of young adult material. We can't give everything a full read – we'd never get every manuscript read if we did that. You realize there are over a hundred new submissions each day? But, send your stuff to me and I'll get it to Melissa. I won't promise you anything though, so this is your last chance, would you rather be paid for your illustrations instead?"

"Future work, yes. But for now, I'll settle on the contact."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I tried. Okay, John, I like the new work. I'll get the releases and you both can sign them. If all goes well, we can have the new prints out by the holidays. I think you finally found yourself an illustrator that can bring your work to life and do it justice!"

They both smiled at me. I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded my head. Then I remembered something. "You said my name would go on the cover as illustrator. Is that still true?"

"Yes Michael. It wont be in big type, but it will be there."

"I'd like it to read 'Ponyboy Curtis,' not 'Michael Curtis'. Is that a problem?"

They both looked at me. I thought at least one of them would choke.

"'Ponyboy'...really?" Mr. Buckner asked.

"Yes. It's my only request, that and the contact." I stared back at them, not explaining, not begging. Just silently hoping.

"Okay..." Mr. Quinn said, as he resumed his lunch. "'Ponyboy' Curtis. That should get the attention of a few more parents to pick up my book. Good job, Michael. I like your style."

If only he knew the truth!

We finished lunch and returned to the office, then Mr. Buckner gave me his card so I could send my manuscript directly to him. Before I left, there were papers to sign for me being the official illustrator. Once that was done, Mr. Quinn shook my hand.

"Okay, Michael. It's a done deal. I'll give you a call when the newly illustrated books are ready. I usually put out about three or four books a year. Can I count on you being my illustrator?"

"Yes sir. You have my number, just call when you need me."

"Great! Have a safe drive home then."

I walked out of the office in awe of what had just happened. I was an illustrator! My name – my _real_ name would be on his published works. Nationwide! I was on my way! If only Darry knew. I just wanted him proud of me. I drove out of the city and back into the country not remembering much of the trip, but my smile stayed on my face the whole time.

XXX

I thank you in advance for your reviews!


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49

Finding Air

Wow, no where to park! I drove up and down the lots, finally finding a spot way out from the buildings and hurried into class. It was the first full day of fall term and even though I was still on a buzz about my illustration deal with Mr. Quinn, I was now having to face Dr. Benning, who was teaching my first class this morning. It started at 8:00, but the time was 8:05. I was late. NOT A GOOD START!

"Welcome to class, Mr. Curtis," he said dryly, chastising me in front of the class, earning me a few sympathetic glances from my otherwise bored classmates who happened to find a parking spot in time to _not _be late in the first place.

"My apologies sir," I mumbled as I made my way to an open seat. He looked at me a moment, then returned to his discussion on early American art.

I couldn't help it if my mind wandered to his daughter, wondering if she was enjoying her first day of senior high. Next thing I knew, I had doodled her face into my note pad. I quickly flipped the page, determined to pay better attention. Last thing I needed was for him to roam the room as many professors did and see his precious artwork, as he called her, drawn in my notepad. Not only would he fail me from the class, I'd never get to see her again. Finally the hour ended and I got up to leave.

"Have a good day, Mr. Curtis," Dr. Benning said as I was leaving the room.

"Thank you, you too, sir." I called back.

The rest of my day was filled with classes dotted around the campus. I took notes, bought my books and finally, when the last class was over, headed back to my car.

"Michael?" I heard someone behind me calling to me. I turned around.

"Dr. Benning, sir. How can I help you?"

"Michael, I want you to know that I can't give you any special favors. It's not unusual for students to be late on the first day, especially when they don't know their way around. But you knew where my class is. I cannot accept students coming in on their own time. I will treat you as I treat any other student. Don't be late again."

"My apologies again, sir. I was late because I had to park a mile away. I don't expect special treatment, nor do I want it. It wont happen again."

He smiled at me, accepting my explanation. "Did you have a good first day back then?"

"It's been busy, sir, with more work than I know what to do with."

"How did your illustrations go over with Mr. Quinn?"

"He's accepted them for use. Said they would be in bookstores hopefully by the holidays."

"Oh, Michael, that's wonderful, really! Well, son, don't let me keep you. I'll see you bright and early on Wednesday then."

"Yes sir, thanks."

My classes have an unusual schedule. They meet on Monday, Wednesday and Friday for an hour each, and Tuesday and Thursday classes meet for an hour and a half each.

I put my books in my car and drove off, intending to go home, instead I found myself just off the high school grounds watching the students going home for the day. I scanned the crowds, finally finding her walking with a few of her friends, at the same time feeling a surge in my chest.

"Hey Ashley!" I called. She looked over and saw me, then waved goodbye to her friends as she joined me by my car. "How was your first day?"

"Long and tedious. Why they spend the first week going over everything we did for the last eleven years is beyond me. How was your first day?"

I looked in those eyes, damn those eyes. Mush mush mush for brains.

"Mike?"

"Yeah?" I snapped out of it. "My day... oh, it was good. Lots of work to do. I just wanted to come over and say 'hi' before leaving for home."

She grinned up at me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a car coming round the corner, going way too fast. Some hot shot high school kid not realizing he was about to hit us. Instinctively, I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her out of the roadway, the car just narrowly missing us, and I let out a string of cuss words at the disappearing driver. He didn't even slow down. I looked down at her, not realizing my arm was still holding her close to me.

I let her go. "Are you okay?" She was shaking a bit but otherwise fine. At least as far as I could tell.

"Yeah, thank you, Mike. I never saw him coming." I opened my passenger door and let her sit down. "Have you always had quick reflexes like that?" She asked as I started the engine.

I looked at her. "I learned a long time ago to always use my peripheral vision. I don't like being snuck up on."

"Thanks for that, for pulling me out of the way." I found her hand and held it while she curled her fingers into mine.

"You're welcome." A few blocks later, I pulled up to her house and let her out.

"Are you coming in?" She asked me.

"Your dad's still at work, Ashley. I don't think he'd approve of my being here."

She smiled. "My mom's here, silly. Come on in."

Well, in that case.....

"Michael! So good to see you! Here's some fresh tea." I took the glass, sipping it for her sake. "Ashley, piano time." Her mother said with that official tone mothers know so well. I hadn't heard it in a long time, but boy it brought back memories.

A scowl came over her face, "Mom..._now_?_** Really**_??"

"Ashley Marie..."

Whoo hoo, I remembered that too...if mothers have to use your first and middle name, you'd better give it up. When they use your full name, you've had it. Darry had tried it with me, but Soda and I would gang up on him giving special accent to "Shaynne". He just didn't have the same effect as a mother did. He got his message across in his own special way.

"Yes ma'am." She went off down the hallway and Mrs. Benning shoo'd me that way too. I found a coaster for the tea glass and put the vile concoction down, watching Ashley practice. For a full fifteen minutes she went up and down, practicing some song that used the whole scale, missing that "A flat" every single time. Finally on the tenth time, I laughed in spite of myself and she stopped and looked at me.

"What's so funny?" She asked, indignant.

I could tell she didn't want to be at the bench right now, but it was her mother that put her there, not me.

"You! You keep missing the 'A flat'. Every time!"

The look on her face was priceless. "You play piano?"

I grinned and looked down. I had no intention of telling her, it was just the missing note driving me batty. "A little."

"Fine, you play it." She got up from the bench and stood next to me, and I felt my skin go scarlet as I settled down in front of the piano. I read the music and found my place on the familiar white and black keys, and began. I was rusty at first, it had been years since I had played in earnest, even longer for an audience. I think my mother was the last to see me actually trying my best. Since they died, I played very little, toying with it only when the house was empty before Darry or Soda would come home. I missed playing, it reminded me so much of my mother and the special bond we alone shared, but it was something as far from being "tuff" as a greaser could get. The guys ragged me bad enough with my drawings, which is why they stayed hidden. They would only have made it worse than ever if they knew I could do this. So I just stopped. Neither Darry nor Soda pushed me on it either, so caught up in their own doings. But Ashley brought it back out, and for her I willingly let it out. By the time I was finished, I looked up to see an amazed smile spread over her face. What I wasn't expecting was behind her.

In the doorway stood both her parents, quietly watching me work my way up and down the keys. Dr. Benning, who had obviously come home, still had his briefcase in his hand and Mrs. Benning was holding her kitchen towel, the both of them just watching me play. I jumped up, red as crimson, stumbling over my own words.

"Dr. Benning, Mrs. Benning, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken liberties..."

Mrs. Benning waved her hands to stop me and Dr. Benning just continued on down the hallway.

"Michael, that was lovely. You sure are a young man full of surprises! Please, continue."

"I'm really sorry...I can't. I have to go." I said nearly tripping over the piano bench.

"Mike..." Ashley started to say something, but I cut her off.

"Really, Ashley, I have to go. I have homework to do too. Please understand. I'll see you soon."

Somehow in the all the frantic gesturing I did, Ashley caught my hand and it gave me a moment of pause...but her mother was watching and it only made me more nervous. I could feel sweat start to roll down my back. She let go, and I made my way to the door.

"Thank you for your hospitality." I said to Mrs. Benning, still in the doorway of the piano room. "I'm sorry, but I have to go now."

Air...where was the air?! Once outside, I began to breathe again. I gulped it down as if it were something you could eat, and finally made my way back into my car. I started the engine and _finally_ made my way back home.

XXX


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Patty's Secret

I had another week at the DX before I hung up my mechanics badge...at least for now. I could tell Steve didn't want me to go, and in a way I didn't want to go either, but it was time. The noises still bothered me, I was still jumpy every time the air gun was used, and I didn't like the way the kids tried to sneak in and steal candy. Reminded me of the kids who had grenades under their clothes in the war.

Of course, I'd still hang out with him every chance I had. And he'd still be at our house almost every night, scrounging out of our ice box and playing cards with Darry, me and Two-Bit. I just needed a change of pace. I think he understood that.

I was hired on at Tulsa General Ambulance Services, TGAS for short, and would make a little more than I did here. After a few months, I'd get a raise. This way, I wasn't living for tips, and I'd really be helping Darry with the bills again. It's gonna feel good to be actually _helping_ rather than feeling like driftwood – getting nowhere while just staying afloat.

Anyway, I was straightening up the racks when I heard the familiar "ding" telling me someone was in the service lane. I could tell it was a lady, so I put on my famous charm and strolled up.

"Afternoon, miss, what can I get for you?"

She turned around...

"Patty?!"

"Oh, hi Sodapop. I didn't know you worked here. Didn't you pass?"

"Yeah, I passed. I start at TGAS next week. How bout you?"

"Mercy General, downtown."

She was nervous. It wasn't hard to see why, she wasn't alone in the car. A small child sat in the passenger seat, playing with a toy soldier. He looked to be maybe two years old. He glanced up at me and smiled. I grinned back.

"Who's kid?" I asked.

Before she could answer, the boy solved the mystery. "Mama...dink peas."

She turned to him and gave him a bottle of juice. "Here, Andrew. Here's your drink, and you're welcome." He took it and drank the juice, then returned to his toy.

Patty's expression was heavy. "He's my son. He'll be two in November."

"Why didn't you tell me you had a child?"

She looked to me as if I were the enemy. "Because, number one – he's not your son. Number two – it isn't your business, and number three – you would have run as fast as you could in the other direction if you _did_ find out about him." She paused a moment, but only a moment. "I like you Sodapop, but I knew better to think you'd want any part of me when you found out about Andy."

She had been looking at me until she got to where she said his name, then she turned to him, placing her hand on his head, smoothing his hair in a gentle caress. I was surprised. I also didn't miss the part where she said she liked me. I went over to the passenger door and opened it, picking the boy up from the seat.

"Hey, Andy...my names Sodapop. Can you say Soda?"

"Dink." He said.

Patty laughed. "No, you silly goose. His _name_ is Soda, and you've had enough drinks today already."

I looked at her and couldn't help myself. "Have dinner with me, at my place tonight. Bring Andy, I'm sure there's gonna be plenty of my friends to keep him occupied."

Patty hesitated.

"Oh, come on. It's dinner. Please?"

"Okay," she said, smiling a little.

"Great!" I handed her back Andy and filled up her tank. I wrote down the directions and watched as she made her way back out on the road. I didn't know what this would lead to, but it seemed interesting so far.

XX

Patty smiled as thoughts flooded her. She remembered her mother's hateful words when she first told her that she was pregnant – that no one would ever accept her and her bastard child. Even the father high tailed it when she told him. Up to that point, her mother had been right. As soon as any guy she was halfway interested in found out about her son, off they would go in another direction. Living with her mother had become financially necessary but emotionally painful. When she saw that EMT class being offered, she viewed it as a chance to start new. Sitting next to Sodapop was only by chance. And chance had delivered a possibility of another fresh start.

When she pulled up at the station for gas, she never expected to see Sodapop again, yet there he was. When he found her secret smiling up at him in the front seat, he didn't back away, fill up the tank and bid her good bye; he went to the child and held him, _willingly_. He invited her _and_ her son to dinner, at _his_ house, with _his_ friends, then _insisted _when she hesitated. Her mother was wrong. There _was _hope. Sodapop had given it back to her.

XXX

I noticed something was really out of whack when I got home. The food was normal, spaghetti and peas sitting in bowls on the table, and the house was cleaner than it had been in a long long time. Laughter came from the kitchen but not the normal 'guy' laughter, there was a woman here too. I could hear her. Her laughter was mixed in with the rest of the gangs.

I took off my boots and walked into the kitchen. Soda was standing by a lady about his height, with brown hair that she wore up in a ponytail, and had eyes the color of gold. Steve sat perched on the counter and Two-Bit was in a chair. On the floor, seated on scattered newspaper, was a small child covered in spaghetti noodles and sauce. He had blond hair and blue eyes and had everyones attention. When I walked in, the boy looked at me and flung noodles in my direction._ What the hell is this shit_? I thought.

"Soda?" I said in a 'you-better-explain-this-right-now' tone of voice.

He looked at me, smiling. "Darry, this is Patty Baxter and her son Andy. Patty, this is my older brother, Darry."

"Patty... as in your classmate, Patty?" I asked while reaching over the mess on the floor to shake her hand.

"Yes, that's me. How do you do? I'll clean the mess, I promise. It was Soda's idea to fix a 20 month old spaghetti. I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen." Everyone laughed, and Soda looked sheepish, turning bright red.

"Okay, I didn't know any better. We got Pony already house broken. Now I know!" Everyone laughed again, but it was markedly less.

"Who's Pony?" She asked, looking at Soda. The room grew silent, the only noise was the boy playing on the floor. Soda watched Andy play with the noodles for a moment, then without looking up said simply....

"Our brother. He's been missing for a year now."

Everyone stayed quiet. Patty realized she crossed some invisible line and broke the silence.

"Well, come on Andrew, lets get you cleaned up." She reached down and picked him up, carrying him to the bathroom for a quick bath.

Soda gathered up the newspapers and put them in the trash, then went to clean up the rest of the mess while Two-Bit and Steve went out to the table, filling their plates full of food, not waiting on the others.

"She's got a kid, Soda? Do you know what you're doing?" I whispered to him, trying hard to keep the anxiety out of my voice.

"Honestly, Darry, I haven't got a clue what I'm doing. But so far, tonight's been more fun than I've had in almost two years. She's great to talk to, interested in the same things I am, and I like her." He whispered back, a little louder than I had.

I just looked at him. He had finished his class and gotten a job, what else could I say? I couldn't keep him reigned in forever. And for once, he seemed happy. "Be _careful,_ Soda. Just please, _please_ be careful."

Soda looked at me in the eyes, knowing full well what I was talking about. "We haven't gotten to that point yet Darry, but if we do, when we do, I will. I promise."

I could only hope so.

XXX


	51. Chapter 51

CHAPTER 51

Pay Dirt

Autumn began and the leaves changed. School had been in session for weeks and I was getting used to having a full course load. It wasn't easy, this was nothing compared to high school, but I was doing the best I could. I studied my rump off, but maintained only a low "B" average. Still, a "B" is a "B".

I was cooking dinner early in October when I got a phone call. I rarely got calls seeing as how few people knew my number. I was shocked when I answered it, it was the realtor.

"Well, Michael, they said $680 an acre and they will pay closing costs. It's a steal at that price, and you are one tough negotiator. What should I tell them?"

I smiled. "Tell them it's a deal." I _knew_ no one else would be putting in an offer. I heard a sigh from the other side of the line.

"Wonderful. I'm glad that's finally finished. Come by my office this week and I'll get the contracts started. How much can you put down?"

"Seven thousand." I said.

"Fine, bring in a secured check for seven thousand dollars and we can get the deed transferred to you. What day would you like to come in?"

I looked at the calender, and it was obvious. "October 8," I said. I didn't need to tell him why, but that date was as important to me as my own birthday. It was _Soda's_ birthday. He would have been twenty years old. Damn that fucking war!

"Good. October 8th it is. See you then, Michael."

I hung up and just stared at Soda's picture on the bookshelf. His uniform was so crisp and fresh in the picture. The haircut wasn't him, he'd had a military style crew cut for it, but the face didn't change. His eyes still shined and his grin still laughed even from the picture. I didn't understand the pins and insignias on his uniform. Darry had tried to explain them to me when the picture arrived at the house, but I didn't listen then and now I couldn't remember. Even now, they didn't matter. It was only Soda that mattered, and...well...he was gone.

I picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Benning residence." It was Ashley.

"Hey Ash, it's Mike. How are you?"

"Michael! Good. What's up?"

"Would you help me with something on the eighth?"

"That's a school day. Hold on, I'll ask daddy." She put the phone down and I heard only muffled voices, then she came back on the line. "He said it's fine, but I have to finish all my school work first. What's up?"

"I cant explain now, but I well then. I'll pick you up at three, is that enough time for you to get your work done?"

"Sure. I'll get it done extra quick. I'll be waiting for you. Bye!"

I hung up, and just stared at the phone for a minute, lost in thought. I couldn't go home to do the flower thing with Darry. I wanted to, but my heart was torn. I couldn't keep asking Father Bryce to do it for me. I vaguely wondered if Darry saw the flowers the Father said he'd take out there for me on my last birthday. I'd have to start my own thing, and what I had in mind felt right. Shades of reds and oranges burst through the sky and filtered through my windows as the evening sun began to set.

_It's for you, Soda_, I thought. _It's all for you_.

XXX

October 8

I skipped classes today, first day for me. Even when in high school, Darry would lay on me thick about cutting classes, so I rarely did it. But today would be different. I went to the bank and took out the seven grand from my safe deposit box, looking at the check I still needed to cash from Vegas. I was going to cash it then, but decided against it for now. Even though I had lots of money left, it was being used up faster than I anticipated.

The teller gave me the certified check and I headed off to the realtors office. I also brought my altered birth certificate just in case I needed it, unsure what documents they would need.

Turns out, a land deal was not as complicated a process as I imagined. It involved a land lawyer officiating the procedure stipulating the agreed price, the owners signing over rights to me, my signing that I agreed to the terms of the sale, my check going to the lawyer, and a notary putting the seal on the bill of sale making everything official. That was it. I was now the owner. Of course, it took about three hours to do all this, mostly "sit and wait" type of stuff.

My bank did my financing, but I would have it paid off in three months. I didn't think it wise to show up with all the $27,000 plus dollars at the purchase. As it was, I did get looks when I gave them the money.

"It's an inheritance," I explained. They solemnly nodded their heads, accepting my explanation why I had so much cash at so young an age.

By lunchtime, the deal was done. I went over to a local nursery and plundered about, finally finding what I thought was just right. I paid for it and asked it to be delivered to my land, then went over to the hardware shop and bought a few other needed things too. Finally I headed back out to my land.

Grabbing a shovel, I found a spot centered in the front of the land facing the east. With each scoopful of earth, I remembered Soda, his charm, his wit, his smile, his love of life. When the soil was hard to dig, I thought of his hardships... losing mom and dad was hard on all of us and I realized now how I had been selfish to only think of myself when he also was in pain. Then he lost Sandy, and even though that was her own fault it still hurt him, and I hated it when he hurt.

As I neared the bottom of the hole I was digging, it felt like it actually was the end. Hitting the hard soil where even my shovel had a hard time penetrating the ground, I could go no further. Vietnam. His end. But for me it was a beginning. An unhappy beginning, but one just the same. I stared at the hole I had made, wiped the sweat off my face and went back to my car. Not long afterward, I heard the delivery truck arriving, right on time with a tree, a Sugar Maple to be exact. They produced the most brilliant burst of color in their leaves in the fall, and are tall and strong the rest of the year. This one was at least 10 feet high already, and just perfect. I showed the men where it was to go, and they lowered the tree in the hole, ready for me to do the rest. I paid them and they were on their way again, and so was I, to get Ashley.

XX

She was sitting in my car looking at me with a mixture of concern and amusement. I hadn't realized how dirty I was, and even though my heart screamed at me to tell her, I couldn't. Not yet. She held my hand, dirt and all, as if it were clean. If all goes as I hoped it would, her hands would be just as dirty by the time I returned her home. By now she knew the way out to the land so it wasn't any surprise when I turned onto the driveway and parked the car. I opened the door and let her out.

"Ashley, I need to talk to you about some things I've not told anyone. I need to know if you will keep it a secret. Everything I say. Not a word to your parents or friends. I need to know I can trust you. Completely"

She looked at me, and vowed secrecy. "Of course, Michael. I promise. I swear, no one will know. What's wrong?" There was no hint of humor in her eyes, only a little concern. But there was honesty, too. I could tell it was a solemn promise.

I turned her to face the land. "It's all mine. I finalized the deal today." She turned to me, surprise on her face.

"You bought it? Really? How? With what?"

"I had an inheritance of sorts. Come with me, there's more." I held her hand as we walked over the land toward the maple. "I need to tell you about Soda." I said, finding a good spot and sitting down, fiddling with the grass. "But to do that, I have to tell you about a few other things first." I searched her face. She was attentive and patient, letting me continue at my own pace and in my own haphazard way.

"I lost my parents years ago in a car wreck. My oldest brother, Darry, took over responsibility for us. He gave up his own future for us. Soda, my middle brother, eventually did too. He quit school and got a job as well. I was too young to get a job, so I stayed in school. We did okay, never enough to do well on but enough to get by on.

"Soda was the best brother a guy could ever hope for. He protected me, listened to me, always encouraged me to always do better. He loved me for everything I was and accepted me wholly. He didn't have a mean bone in his body." I was fiddling with a twig, snapping it in half at this point. "Then he got drafted. I felt lost in my own house and terrified out of my mind when he left. A few months later, we got word that he was dead, killed in action." I dropped the broken twigs now, and stared at the half planted tree. "I left home. Darry needed his own life, I was in his way. He didn't ask me to go but it was time I did. It wasn't fair for him to keep his life on hold for me anymore."

I looked at her. She was still waiting, absorbing all I said, not pushing or asking questions I knew she had to have had. I stood up and took her hand again, helping her to her feet.

"So here I am. Today was his birthday. He'd have been 21." Okay, I had to bump his age too, or the dates wouldn't have worked out. Lies get complicated after a while. "Would you help me finish this, help me plant a tree for him. In honor of him?"

She reached over and picked up a shovel and smiled softly. "I'm glad you told me, and honored you asked me to help. Of course I'll help you, Mike."

In silence, we filled the hole, planting Soda's tree together. I'd figure out how to water it later. When the hole was filled in, I stood next to her with her hand in mine just looking at it a few minutes, thinking of him. Then, I moved my arm around her waist, pulling her close to me. She didn't fight it or pull away, but allowed me this motion. I stood a little taller than she did, and she looked up at me while I gazed down into her eyes. For once, my brain thinking clearly.

"I like you, Ashley. I like you a whole lot. You mean the world to me. Thank you for being here, for helping me, and for promising to keep my secret."

"It's my pleasure, Mike. I like you too." We stood like that for a moment, then I brushed her hair from her face and kissed her forehead. I had never been so bold before, and didn't know how she'd react. Her arms, which were already around me, pulled me even closer. Obviously I wanted more, but I wasn't ready for that level. Not yet, and not today. I wasn't worried about her father, I'd never do anything to hurt Ashley, to make him think less of her or me; but someone as special as she is deserved to be treated right. I would. I'd wait. It wasn't time for what my deepest inner thoughts desired. I let go of her and took her hand again, leading her back to my car.

The drive back was quiet. I could only imagine she felt the heaviness in my heart. She held my hand the whole way back to her house.

As I let her out, she lingered a moment by the car with me.

"Soda loved you, Mike. From the way you describe him, at least. He loves you still, from where ever he is now. Don't be sad. Love is eternal. And, Michael," she paused, her eyes searching mine and locking them with her own when my gaze met hers, "he's not the only one who loves you, either." She smiled faintly and turned to go into the house.

I drove on back, lost in too many thoughts to measure.

XXX

The land purchase in here was similar to my own land purchase, a few other things would be done like a survey and perk of the land, but I wanted to keep it simple.

Also, I have hand planted 10 foot tall maple trees, so yes, it can be done with a shovel...but it is back breaking work.

Finally...and don't scream...all the lies will be sorted out in the future.

I would love reviews... Thanks folks!

Calla


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter 52

October 8

I didn't need to worry about watering Soda's tree after all. That night, rains came. A deluge of sorts. I lay in bed listening to the drops dance across the windows, walls and roof of the garage. Was he crying? Were these his tears raining down on me, missing me as much as I missed him? Was Darry laying in his own bed right now, thinking of Soda too? I missed his voice. Quietly, I crossed the apartment and picked up the phone, dialing the number I so often wished were still my own. It rang, and rang, and

"...Hello?....... Helloooo?"

I hung up. My words choked me, unable to escape my throat. It was Two-Bit..... Tears streamed down my face as I cried, his voice sounded so good, so warm. I yearned to have talked, but terror overtook me. Even though I had longed to make the connection home again, I couldn't. My shaking hand finally let go of the handset, and I crawled back into my bed. I cried in earnest, letting my sobs be lost in the rainstorm outside my room.

YYYYY

"Who was on the phone, Two-Bit?" Soda called over as Two-Bit put the receiver back down.

"Dunno. They hung up. Guess they heard about your party and wanted to crash it."

"This ain't much of a party, with the kid here!" Steve silently said, not wanting Patty to hear. Darry had been adamant – no beer while Andy was in the house.

"Aw, hush it. Andy's doing us a favor. Two-Bit, you're gonna get a beer gut one of these days." Darry said.

They looked at the boy who was having more fun eating the icing off his cake than the gang had had making the cake. It was Soda's birthday, 20 years old – at last!

It was a subdued celebration, with Ponyboy still missing and no clue to his current location or state of well being. The gang knew Soda would be down, so they secretly invited Patty to join them at the Curtis house for burgers and chips, and of course ice cream and cake. Soda was surprised to see her when he came in from his new job, giving her a hug and kiss on the cheek, then picking up Andy making the child squeal with delight. They all ate and played cards, eventually Andy fell asleep on the floor in front of the TV. It had been getting late, but Patty and Soda were sitting on the couch looking at old photo albums. She took her time, watching the Curtis boys grow from babies to boys to men in small black and white pictures secured on page after page of the album.

In those pictures, she saw one boy who was athletic yet physical, either building something or carrying a football in every photograph. In other pictures, she saw another boy who always had either tools or machinery parts in his hands. He was slender and was always grinning the familiar grin she was coming to admire. Yet, the third boy gave her pause. He was more quiet in the pictures, even though pictures made no sound. He had books and drawing things, and while he would smile, it wasn't one that was outgoing as the other two boys smiles' were. He wasn't sad, yet... she wasn't sure how to describe it. One picture especially held her interest so long, she got up the nerve to ask.

"Who's this?" She pointed at it. Darry came over and looked. It was one of their mother and Ponyboy, they were at the piano, both sitting side by side on the bench and they didn't know their father was behind them with the camera. She was looking down into his eyes as he was looking up into hers, with their hands on the keys.

"That's our mother with Ponyboy. She taught him to play piano when he was about Andy's age. He was maybe three in that picture."

"He plays piano? Seriously! You're kidding, right?" Steve almost fell off his chair, wanting to laugh but catching the looks both Darry and Soda were giving him.

"Does he still play? I never heard him." Said Two-Bit, interested in this talent the youngest greaser never let on to having.

"Nah, well, he used to. He'd play when we weren't around. It was rare, though. Nope, once mom and dad passed, he basically quit." Darry walked back to the kitchen.

"Can I borrow this photo? I promise I wont damage it." She asked of Soda.

He reached over and pulled the protective film back. "You know these are all we have left of our parents. Return it when you're done." He handed her the picture without asking what she wanted it for, or for how long she was going to use it. She put it carefully in her purse.

"Well," she said, closing the album, "I think it's time for us to go." She got up and started to get Andy, but Soda pulled her out to the porch instead. He shut the door so it was just the two of them, alone in the dark with only the moonlight to see by. It was cool, but neither of them felt it.

"Thank you for coming over. I'm getting rather old for birthday parties, but this was fun. I hope you had a good time." He said, getting close to her.

"Why Soda, I never would think_ you _of all people would think you're too old for a party." Her eyes laughed at him.

"What do you think of my brother and our nutty friends?" He stood so close, his breath mingled with hers.

"I think they're a great bunch of guys. They support you. It's rare to find real support in this world today. My mother..."

"...Patty," Soda interrupted.

"Yeah, Soda?"

"Shut up." He pulled her to him and his lips found hers. The pressure was soft at first then grew stronger, needing more, from each of them to the other. Finally, she pulled away, needing to breathe, but stayed wrapped in his arms.

"I promise you, Patty," Soda said solemnly, "I wont hurt you or mislead you. I wont cheat on you or lie to you. I'll do nothing to ever cause you regret. We'll take this as far as you want it to go, and if you say stop, I will."

She looked at him. "I know you will, Soda. I know." Her lips met his again, and for another blissful moment, she forgot she was an unwed mother, still living at her own mothers house with barely enough of an income to feed her and her child. He forgot his past romantic failure, Vietnam, and ...for fifteen seconds at least, the biggest worry of his life, the whereabouts of his baby brother, now 17 and alone. He thought only of the woman in his arms and how good it felt again. He finally let her go, gently pushing back her hair from her face as they pulled apart.

"I better get Andy," She said quietly. He opened the door for her and she went in to collect her sleeping son.

WWW

In Montana, the sleeping son of Mr. and Mrs. Curtis was dreaming of younger years, when he, Soda and Darry played tag in the yard after Soda blew out his birthday candles. In his dream, the candles flicked by like pages on a calender until stopping at 18. The pages refused to budge from that point. Soda was gone. The letter from the Army hidden behind the group photo sitting on his night stand, the photo he saw every morning and closed his eyes to every night said so. He went by that letter, and therefore there were no more candles to blow out. Soda's candle had gone out instead.

XX

Reviews...please send reviews...please, please, please!!!


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Warmth Of Family

The days of October waned and November arrived, bringing cold biting winds and the ever present threat of snow. I was doing well with school -some "A's," "B's" and and unfortunate "C" that just refused to go up despite hours of extra study, but I was looking forward to the end of fall term.

When I wasn't spending time on my studies, my thoughts would race to Ashley. She was doing well in her classes and trying (yet failing I do believe) to teach me French. I was glad she was enjoying her senior year though. I know now how much that last year means to a person, when you've worked so hard for so long and earned the rights to have all that the last year brings you, and then have it all evaporate before your eyes. But that was my own fault. I was just content to stand on the sidelines watching her enjoy her year.

I was still shaking off the feeling of school day blues when I found a thick letter waiting for me. The return address was from Melissa Ford, and it took me a few minutes to place the name. Oh yeah – the contact at the publishing company who was reviewing my manuscript! It was a thick envelope and I began to get my hopes up, thinking great news was on my way. My hopes came crashing down, however after I got home and read the letter. Basically, she said it was a good manuscript but lacked many elements that other submissions had to offer.

She said she appreciated the cover artwork and perhaps in the future could use me as an illustrator and cover artist, which told me she knew my manuscript was sent as a favor, but for now would have to decline my manuscript for publication. I felt like a deflated balloon - empty and disappointed. I took her letter and put it with the other reject letters in the box under my bed. Life goes on.

Thanksgiving had arrived and Mr. and Mrs. Roberts once again invited me to their house to celebrate and have dinner. Having declined the same invitation last year, I accepted it this year. I knew I was welcome in their home as they had always treated me more as a son than as a guest. They made me feel welcome here, but I never wanted to intrude on their hospitality. Last year I was just the "tenant over the garage", this year I felt more like family than ever.

"How's that land, Michael? Done anything with it since making it your own?" Mr Roberts asked.

"I haven't really had time to. School's keeping me busy. I want to build a house on it though. I've played with some floor plans, designing it how I want it to look. It's just going to have to wait for now though."

"Really! A house! There are several good builders in town. When you're ready, I can give you their names, if you're really interested in going down that route."

I finished my plate and nodded. "That would be great, sir. Thank you." Something else had been gnawing at me, something I felt I needed to say. This being Thanksgiving, I figured it was also the right time to say it. "Mr. Roberts, Mrs. Roberts... I never really said thank you for all you both have done for me over the last year since I met you. I really do appreciate it. Without you, I don't know where I'd be. I wouldn't have what I have, I know that. So thank you both, truly, for everything."

"You're welcome, Michael." Mrs Roberts said, looking at me carefully then patting my hand. Even now, I couldn't tell if she had believed the lie I gave of my age. She was the one person who always looked at me skeptically, but never said a word to me about it. She was a mother to a _real _19 year old away at college, after all, and mothers just always seem to know.

After Thanksgiving, the weeks just passed in quick succession. I had my finals just before Christmas and as I expected, my overall grades averaged to a "B". My "A" in one class balanced the "C" in another, and all my other "B's" just fell in line. As bad as I felt about the "C", I was just glad to get the whole quarter finally over with.

Having to see Dr. Benning in a professional manner three times a week in class then ramping up the charm on the weekends as I took his daughter out was getting exhausting. Now I could be myself. I didn't realize how much of myself I was soon to become.

I had been so busy with everything, finals and holiday nonsense that when George tried to stop me in the post office just two weeks before Christmas with a package, I almost didn't see him. But I _heard_ him. I _definitely_ heard him.

"...Ponyboy Curtis..."

Talk about being stopped **DEAD** in my tracks. "What?" I asked, turning to him, pale as a sheet.

"I said, do you know anyone named 'Ponyboy Curtis'? This came for him but has your address on it. I guess they screwed up. Here," he said, handing me the box, "I have holiday deliveries to make. Merry Christmas, Michael!"

I looked at the return address on the box, from John Quinn. It took a second then I remembered - the three books I illustrated. He said they'd be out at the holidays, and well, that was now. Yeah!!!

After I got home, I eagerly tore open the box and pulled out the three complimentary copies of his books. It's a weird feeling, holding something in your hands that _you know_ you designed from scratch and is yet professionally done, available for anyone to hold. I saw his name in big letters on the cover and in the bottom was my own... "Illustrations by Ponyboy Curtis."

It gave me goosebumps. I smiled at my own name...silly, I know. I was actually _proud_ of myself. If I did nothing else, I had this in my life.

I sat the books sitting upright on the bookshelf, next to my diploma, then read the letter that accompanied the books.

_Michael, here are your copies. Great job, once again. The new editions will start regionally at first then will filter over the nation by the summer. I am currently working on script for my next book and will call you when I am ready for your magical touch. Have a great Christmas! John_

I smiled, then wondered how to do the explaining I knew I would have to do when people around here saw my work. I thought and thought about it, then an hour and a headache later I decided if anyone asked, I'll just tell the truth. Lies were getting just too damn complicated. And painful. I swallowed a few aspirin, rubbing my temples to try to sooth the burning ache growing at the sides of my head.

The next afternoon, as I returned Ashley to her house after a day of shopping for her parents holiday gifts, Mrs. Benning called me aside.

"Michael, please have Christmas dinner with us...unless you have other plans."

I looked at her, surprised. I hadn't expected this to happen.

"Thank you, Mrs. Benning. It's very nice of you to invite me. What time do you want me to come over?"

She smiled. "Dinner will be ready by two. Come over anytime before then. You're always welcome."

I agonized over that week at what gift to give them, or even if I was actually expected to _have_ a gift. This was the sort of thing someone was supposed to have taught me but obviously didn't. On second thought, why did I even expect any greaser would teach me manners or grace, when for holiday fun the gang burped out the tune of Jingle Bells? I shook my head, laughing at the memory.

I looked in the stores that afternoon but found nothing I felt was befitting the Bennings. No little trinket I could give them was nice enough. Then an idea came to me and I smiled, returning home to get out my art supplies.

I worked on it for the two weeks I had before Christmas, finishing it just in time. I found a frame and wrapped it all up, and on Christmas day I made my way to their house.

"Merry Christmas, Michael!" Mrs. Benning said to me as I came into their home.

"Thank you...Merry Christmas to you too. I hope you don't mind, I have a little something for you and Dr. Benning. I hope you like it." I handed her the gift and took off my coat, slipping another smaller package from my coat pocket into my shirt pocket without being seen. Mrs. Benning started gushing.

"Oh, Michael, this is so nice of you. You didn't have to do this." She gave me a hug – the type mothers give their kids, then turned to go into the living room. "Alfred, look what Michael did, he got us a gift..." She disappeared into the other room, her voice fading into the distance as I took off my boots. When I looked up, I saw Ashley peaking out from the piano room and I went to join her.

"Merry Christmas, Michael," she said quietly.

"Merry Christmas, Ash. I hope you don't mind, but I got you a little gift too." From my pocket I pulled out the small box with the now somewhat rumpled bow on it. I handed it to her.

Her eyes grew large as I placed it in her hands. "Oh Mike, you didn't have to...."

"Well, it's Christmas, and I couldn't exactly come here empty handed, now could I? I really hope you like it."

"I'm sure I will," she said, taking off the ribbon. She opened the box and took a breath. I could tell she wasn't expecting what she saw. She fingered it lightly then looked at me. "It's beautiful! Thank you." She said, barely above a whisper.

I smiled, happily watching her reaction. She held the necklace up. It had a pearl and a ruby – her birthstone and mine, placed together in one setting, dangling on a gold chain. She handed it to me then held her hair up for me to place it around her neck. After it was secured, she turned back and felt it on her skin, blushing at me.

"I love it." She whispered.

"I'm glad." I held both her hands in mine, feeling their warmth and looking in her eyes. I was mindful of where I was, otherwise I'd have held her closer.

"Oh, Michael!" Mrs. Benning's voice from the other room broke into my thoughts. "It's lovely!"

Ashley and I went into the living room where her parents sat by the tree having opened my gift.

Ashley sat by her mother to see my work better and smiled appreciatively. Even Dr. Benning seemed to like it. I had drawn their family in a portrait style using colored pencils on a 10 X 14 background. I was pleased to see the looks on their faces.

"I hope it wasn't too forward of me and that I got the likenesses right." I said bashfully.

"It's wonderful, Michael." Said Mrs. Benning.

"Very well done, son." Said Dr. Benning.

I smiled, not missing that he had called me "son". They admired it for an appropriate amount of time, then Mrs. Benning looked at me, smiled and got up.

"Well, lets go eat." She said, leading us to the dining room.

It was a wonderful Christmas, almost a bit _too_ Norman Rockwellish for me. They had a large tree decorated to the hilt, delicious food and soft holiday music playing on the record player.

My holidays at home with the guys usually involved the aforementioned burping of carols, a half dead tree bought on sale decorated with repaired ornaments, the radio on in the background and for dinner a ham with sweet potatoes, corn and biscuits. We'd have gifts - normally socks and sweat pants for Darry and Soda, and for me they would go in together and buy me a new pair of shoes and jeans. Track wore out my shoes and jeans were always being torn up or were fully used up, especially since I usually inherited Soda's old clothes. Then we'd hang out with who ever was at our house, watching TV until the day was over.

It was definitely a different way of doing things here but I must say I liked it. Yeah, I missed Darry and the guys, missed them so much it hurt; but this was nice too. Comforting. Like family. I missed that.

XX

Reviews please! Thank you to all who have read and kept up. I appreciate it! Calla Lilly Rose


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter 54

Gifts

It wasn't difficult to see Soda was falling for Patty. They spent a lot of time together and I was glad to see him finally going out and living again. And he was right, she is a nice person...sort of like us on the east side, stuck in the rut that circumstances or fate had put us in.

But she had climbed out of her rut, child in tow no less, and was working to be better than she was, same as Soda. He had overcome the obstacles of his education to have a decent job now, with only better things to come. I could begin to see it for him. So it sort of shocked me when he said he had news that I needed to sit down for. Oh Soda...I _**TOLD**_ you to be careful!

"It ain't nothing like that, Darry." He said smiling. "She's going back to school, nursing school. She just needs someone to watch Andy for a few hours a day while she takes a class. I figured between you, me and the guys...we could cover it. Whaddya say?"

I just looked at him. _How did I go from raising my teenage brothers, _I thought_, to being asked to watch someone else's two year old son? _Soda was giving me those eyes. Oh _HELL_! "Sure, Soda, somehow we'll get it done. But you'll have to rope the others in on this first before I'll totally agree. What about your work? You can't watch Andy and work at the same time."

"I can switch to the opposite schedule so I can be here to watch him while she is at school. I already asked the boss, and he don't care as long as I show up."

Something else was bothering me. "Soda, where are you going with this relationship? You've been going out with her since September. It's December now, aren't you rushing this...taking care of her kid and all? Where's Andy's father?"

He was quiet for a moment. "I know we ain't been together long, but things just feel right. As far as his 'father' goes, well, when she told him she was pregnant, he gave her a hundred and fifty bucks and dropped her off at a 'back alley specialist' to '_erase his mistake'_, then drove off never to be seen again. She couldn't do it...and here they are."

"Oh Soda, Soda, Soda..." I shook my head. "Like I said, rope the rest of the gang and we'll figure something out." I got up and went to fix dinner. When I looked back at him a few minutes later, he was still sitting at the table, staring at his Pepsi, but had an odd smile on his face. Oh brother of mine, you and women!

I hoped Ponyboy was at least being smart. I had a pretty good idea he was still a virgin when he left. Hell, when he was 14 and 15 years old he wouldn't even look at a girl, afraid they'd say "boo" to him. Too much crap had happened when he was 16, what with Soda's deployment and all; then he disappeared on me. I could only pray that he was still a virgin and that, ...God forbid... if he wasn't one that he was being smart and careful about it. I hadn't exactly given him_ the talk_...being from this side of town and with all the talk the guys did around him, he knew what was what anyway, and he knew unprotected sex caused pregnancy. Hell, even _protected_ sex wasn't guaranteed to keep all your swimmers out of the pool. _Please please please, Pony, _I begged silently,_ if nothing else, remember the few morals mom and dad gave you and keep your personal property in your pants!_ I was fully aware he was 17 now, and if he's anything like Soda and I were at that age, his hormones should be in full force by now. Lord, help us!

XXX

Christmas was finally here again, and like last year we didn't do much for it. This was always Ponyboy's favorite holiday, his and mom's, and last year we didn't even have a desire to get a tree. I did buy Soda some shirts - he hadn't had any good clothes since his DX days had all but destroyed them. I baked a turkey and had mashed potatoes last year for a change, and had planned to do the same this year. Patty and Andy were over this year, along with the rest of the motley crew. Things were never going to be the same without Ponyboy, but we tried harder this year, for Patty's sake. Soda was really trying to impress her, so I went along with it as best I could.

ZZZ

Patty and I took Andy out to the mall a few days before Christmas for shopping. I had no idea what to get anyone – money was a little better for us what with my disability check and my new job, but it would always be tight.

I found her a watch I thought she'd like so she could use for work and for school. Darry was needing a new tool belt so I picked one out that had deep pockets in it that I knew he'd like. I found Steve a new radio for him to use at the DX so it wouldn't be so quiet there...my replacement wasn't exactly the outgoing type, from what he told me. Steve and I had secretly decided we'd overhaul Two-Bits car for him and finally get it running good.

Patty and I walked up and down the mall for an hour, and Andy was finally getting tired. We went into the bookstore to sit and watch him in the kids book section, but ended up lost in our own conversation instead. When we finally looked over at him, he had some book in his mouth chewing on it, and had literally chewed part of the cover off. Damn! Well, I guess I know what he's getting for Christmas!

"Aww, Andy! You don't eat books, honey!" Patty admonished the smiling boy as she pulled the half chewed cover out of his mouth.

_Ewwww,_ I thought watching her. Raising kids ain't easy, yet she did this so flawlessly. Nothing grossed her out.

"He's teething, has some new teeth coming in and his gums are sore. I'm sorry, Soda." She said, looking a tiny bit frazzled.

"No problem, but I have to pay for the book. Hand it here, what is it?"

She looked at the cover, "_Butterflies and Mountain Skies_ by John Quinn. Well, at least the artwork is colorful. It's a buck fifty. I'll pay you back for it, really." She said, handing me up the book.

"Don't worry. I have the money." I said absentmindedly. I was looking at the damage Andy had made. He had chewed right through the cover where the artists name was. All that was left was "Po.............tis" _Who ever that guy is_, I thought,_ I hoped he knew that his art was literally being devoured by his fans._

I paid for the book and met Patty out in the mall area. Andy was looking tired, so we set out for home. I had been shopping for Christmas gifts almost every year of my life, but having a two year old in tow sure changed things. Good thing we didn't go to a china shop!

Christmas morning Darry and I exchanged gifts before the rest of the gang showed up. He liked the new belt and got busy working the leather to soften it up. He bought me a jacket – mine was being used double duty at work and on my off hours. "I don't want to see your good stuff ruined at work anymore." He explained. I liked it and it fit well. Later we sat around, just he and I, staring at the TV but neither of us really watching it, obviously thinking of someone else.

"You think he's okay, Darry?" I asked quietly, not turning to look at him.

"I hope so, Soda." He answered back after a long pause, his voice just as somber as mine, and he didn't turn to look at me either.

"Do you think he misses us? Forgotten us?"

"Don't do this, Soda."

I looked at him. He was pale and his jaw was tight, but his eyes were doing the hundred yard stare they taught us in boot camp. I had no answers, neither did Darry. I only had questions that yearned for answers that never came, and an emptiness in my chest, centered right over my heart. If I knew Patty wasn't coming over, I would have gotten a beer out of the fridge then. Not that I drank a lot, it was rare for me. Even more so with my kidney repaire job. But I wanted one then.

"Hey, anyone home?" The door opened and Two-Bit came in. "I thought this was Christmas! Cheer up! Y'all ain't had eggnog yet – here, I brought my own _special_ version. Try some!" He handed me the flask and I took a swig, instantly regretting it.

"Two-Bit, this is gross." I handed him back the flask and downed my Pepsi, trying to kill that taste in my mouth. Darry just got up and went to his room for a while, not saying a word.

"What's up with him?" Two-Bit asked quietly.

I got up too, but didn't move out of the room. "We were thinking of Pony before you came in." I answered back, my smile gone again.

"I haven't given up, Soda. I'm still searching for him. He's out there, we'll find him yet."

He sounded so serious. "Will we, Keith? Will we? It's been over a year. He's not once tried to contact us. I can't even let him know I ain't dead...."

Two-Bit put his flask down and pulled me to him, a very unusual move for him. He spoke to me while holding me tight.

"Now listed to me. That kid is a lot of things, but he will _never _forget about you or Darry, that he is a _Curtis_, and _where_ his family lives. He is a _dreamer _and a _seeker_, and one day when he finds his path it will lead him home. _Here._ You can't give up on him, Soda. If you, _**you**_ of all people give up, what will the rest of us do?" He let me go and I wiped away the few tears that had sprung up without permission.

"I miss him so much, so_** damn **_much...." I could barely say through the knot in my throat.

He put his hands on my shoulders near my neck, and looked at me until I looked into his eyes. "We miss him too, just as much and just as bad. But don't you give up." He relaxed his hold on me but didn't let go. "And the name's 'Two-Bit'. I ain't ready to be all grown up and responsible yet." He let out a hint of a smile while cocking that eyebrow of his.

I grinned. "Whatever, you old hound." I didn't want to remind him that he and Darry were nearly the same age.

"Come on," he said to me, "lets go see what 's around here to eat."

The rest of the day went as usual. Patty liked her watch, just as I expected her to, and Steve and Two-Bit seemed to have a good time. To my surprise, Patty handed me a package and looked at me for my reaction when I opened it. It was a framed enlargement of the picture of mom and Ponyboy sitting at the piano, the one I loaned her a while ago.

"I hope you like it. They look so natural in their pose. I just felt like it needed to be seen again, instead of lost in a photo album. I know it's a rather old shot but still...."

"No.." I said, unable to take my eyes off it. "I love it." And I did. I held it in my hands for a while then put it on the piano where mom and dad's pictures used to be, before they disappeared with Pony that day.

For a while the only noise was Andy playing with the discarded wrapping paper. I handed him the last present, the book he had already chewed on, but my thoughts were elsewhere. If only I had a clue where Ponyboy was, something that said he was okay, then I could rest again. I pushed the thoughts to the side and smiled at Andy, pulling him into my lap. I took the book from him and began to read it to him while he looked at the brightly colored pictures on each page. Bald eagles drawn with amazing detail, and mountains, butterflies and deer drawn out on every page. Patty was right, the artist had talent. Neither Andy nor I took our eyes off it until the last word was read off the last page of the book.

XXX

If you don't have kids, this will seem too convenient an explanation for why the name is gone. I you do have kids, you will see the total plausibility of this scenario. Either way, I needed Soda to not see the artist's name.

Thanks for your reviews!

Calla Lilly Rose


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter 55

Prom

The spring term started in January and it was back to the grindstone for me. My classes obviously became harder as this was the end of my first year, but I was keeping up with what was expected of me.

My relationship with Ashley grew, but never did I cross a line that her parents would disapprove of. At times I wanted to …. wanted to feel more, explore more... but I'd pull myself back from that emotion. It wasn't right. Not yet. Not.... yet. It drove me nuts at times, but I had vowed to her father **and **to myself that I wouldn't do anything that I couldn't undo later. I think she understood. Her eyes would linger and her hands would wrap themselves around mine but that was as far as I would let things go. She never questioned me with either her eyes or with words why we didn't go farther, and for that I was glad. She just understood somehow and accepted it.

The spring came and Soda's tree started putting out shoots of new growth, green starting to peak out from beneath the dull brown wood of the branches. Natures first green. Gold.

One weekend in early April, she and I were walking around Pembroke just hanging out together when she suddenly turned to me and said she wanted to ask me a question.

"What? Ask away." I said.

"Will you go to senior prom with me?"

I looked at her, totally unprepared for that. I had already dismissed the ideas of having any type of "senior high activities" to look back on, and yet here she was offering it to me, not knowing how much it meant to me.

She quickly looked down, "Or if you have other plans...I understand. A college guy probably doesn't have much need for some silly high school prom anyway."

"I'd love to go." I said. She looked at me, sort of shocked.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. When is is?"

"Next week. Friday. My dress is green. You sure you don't mind?"

I pulled her close and kissed her forehead. I'm honored. I said smiling. I hadn't even thought of my own prom that I'd miss, so busy with everything else. But going with her seemed so right. "What time shall I pick you up?"

"Seven." Her eyes just sparkled.

"I'll be there." And that was that, I was going to the prom after all.

XX

I felt all goofy in the get-up I was wearing. A tux that I'd rented with a matching cummerbund to Ashley's dress. I had a vague memory of Darry in a similar get up from years ago, on his way to prom. I was, what? 12 years old? Hell, too much time had gone by since then.

I took two bouquets of flowers with me and as the door opened, Dr. Benning allowed me in.

"Evening, sir." I said. I don't know why I was nervous. I'd eaten dinner in this house a few times now, sat in his classroom for five months straight and had picked up and dropped his daughter off hundreds of times since we'd first met, but I felt like I was going to pass out from nerves anyway.

"Evening Michael. You look very handsome, son."

"Thank you, sir." I said turning slightly red.

"Oh, Michael, don't you look nice!" Mrs. Benning came in.

"Thank you, ma'am. These are for you." I handed her a bouquet of Calla Lilly's. They were my mothers favorite, so I knew lady's liked them. She seemed surprised.

"Oh, Michael, they're lovely. Thank you!"

She disappeared into the kitchen where I heard water running. A moment later she returned with the flowers in a vase, sitting them down on the table below the hanging portrait I had made for them. A presence at the stairs got our attention. Ashley paused a moment then came down, and my heart literally pounded in my chest. She was...well..._beautiful_.

Her hair was swept up into cascading curls that softly fell at the back of her neck, her dress had spaghetti straps that held up a floor length emerald green ball gown made of lace and satin. Around her neck hung a ruby and pearl necklace. I wondered if her parents even knew I was the one that gave it to her.

"You look magnificent." I said as she made her way to my side. I slipped the second small arrangement of roses around her wrist.

"You shiny up like a new penny too." She said, smiling back.

Her parents took some pictures and I led her to my car.

"Be back by eleven tonight, Ashley." Her father said.

"I'll have her home safe by then, sir." I promised him.

"I know you will, Michael." He nodded.

CCC

Prom was both a new experience and a step back for me. Balloons floated and ribbons streamed from one end of the gym to the other. We had the "official pictures" made and sampled the punch. It had an odd quality to it, and a vague sense of familiarity hit me. Suddenly I remembered where I had tasted this stuff before and I grabbed Ashley's cup mid sip from her. It was just like the punch Two-Bit had me try when I turned 15. I remembered him giggling like he was trying to hide something, and Steve was watching me with an amused look on his face too, which should have tipped me off. Things got bright and loud, and my head started to hurt. Darry saw what they were doing to me before I got too messed up, and hauled them both into the back room for a little chat, but I didn't feel very well for the rest of the day. I don't know if Soda had been in on it, he never said one way or another. But when Ashley looked at me after I took her cup from her, and said simply "It's been spiked," she started giggling. I hope she didn't get drunk fast, because there was no way I could explain this to her parents. After a while, her giggles stopped. When her eyes looked like they normally do, we went to the dance floor.

Now, I've never been _dancing_ dancing, but I have been to many dances. Usually I pretend I'm part of the paint and hang by the wall, but this was a chance to hold her closes and I wasn't passing that up. I had two left feet but it went well with her own. Finally we were content to just hold each other and sway to the music. I looked in her eyes and just smiled.

"What are you thinking, Mike?" She asked.

I blushed. "I shouldn't really say, Ash."

"Tell me anyway."

"I'm thinking how lucky I am to have found someone as good as you." I paused a moment. "God, Ashley, you're beautiful." A moment of silence seperated my thoughts. "I've fallen for you. But I don't know how to keep you. I'm so afraid I'll lose you, too."

"You won't lose me, Mike. I'm here and I'll always be here for as long as you want me."

Another silence enveloped us as I held her, thinking of all the people who have said that to me – that they would be here and then they weren't. Before I could think more, my ears picked up on her voice, ever so quiet, like she wasn't sure she wanted me to hear her.

"I love you, Mike." Her eyes glanced up into mine, as if wondering if I had heard.

"I love you too, Ashley." I whispered just as quietly back to her, almost afraid of the words, the emotion behind them. I fingered the necklace as it lay against her skin, my fingers brushing down the soft cheeks of her face, trailing down her neck and caressing her bare shoulders. I felt her shudder at my touch while looking at her. Her skin so creamy and flawless. I closed my eyes as a longing enveloped me, a desiring that ached in my soul. I wouldn't give into it. I closed my eyes tight, fighting it back, then suddenly Ashley pressed her hands into my back, getting me to open my eyes.

"I understand, Mike, I do." She whispered to me, obviously knowing what had caused me pause. I hoped she did know, and knew also how mightily I constantly fought that urge, so she wouldn't lose her honor or destroy the trust her parents have in us.

"Lets see if they've fixed the punch now." I said a moment later, when I was finally able to move again.

I had her home by eleven as promised. On my way back to my place, I had my copy of our prom picture. I had bought two of them, one for each of us. I propped it up next to my parents pictures.

"One day, mom and dad, one day....." I said aloud. But even in private, I couldn't finish those thoughts. I couldn't stand losing someone else.

XXX

I realize picture processing probably wasn't that fast in the 60's, but ehhh, go with it. Thanks for your reviews!

Calla Lilly Rose


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter 56

Ouch

Over spring break, I knuckled down on my house building plans. Mr. Roberts had given me the numbers of three local builders and having spoken with them, I decided on one who seemed able to build the house to the plans I had. It wouldn't be exact, because I'm not a builder and I don't know about that stuff, but he looked at my plans, got out some of his own and was able to do a good job matching it all up. So, I went with him. Total cost to build my house, $26,000. Almost the same price as my land. He's due to start in a week. If all goes well, it should be done by my birthday.

Ashley also had a surprise – her parents have _finally_decided to allow her to have driving lessons. She was as excited as I was when I won the money! I smiled at her giddyness.

"Well, I told them I would be going to college soon, and it would be important to know how to drive. Daddy finally said yes! I'm already signed up!"

I was happy for her. That first taste of freedom is exhilarating and yet can scare the crap out of you too, when you realize you're in control of a machine that can take you places or kill you or others if you screw up. My parents had died in a car accident, so the true power of a vehicle was never lost on me. I respected it.

School was going well. I had another "C" and a smattering of "B's". Finals were coming up in late May, so I was busy trying to fix the "C". College was no joke!

"What are you going to major in when you go to college?" I asked her one day as we sat around doing nothing.

She looked at me, then looked down, obviously thinking. "Teaching, probably. I always pictured myself as a teacher. Molding and shaping young minds. Daddy's a teacher, just seems right that I follow in the family tradition." She said with finality. "What do you think of that?"

I smiled. "It suits you. Can I be in your class...Miss Benning?"

"Oh, Michael! Stop it" She giggled at me.

XXX

June was finally here and I finished up my first year of college. I did manage to turn my "C" into a "B-", so it seemed I was going to perpetuate the "B" grading scale.

Ashley graduated from high school and I was invited to her graduation. Yet another moment of high school glory I was to see through her eyes and not my own, but oh well. You make your bed...ya gotta lay in it. She looked so proud turning her tassel and getting her diploma. I was proud for her.

My house was halfway done and looked wonderful so far. It's a single story three bedroom two bathhouse with a large stone fireplace in the living room. It's big, but I want it that way. I have always lived in a small space, either at home where Darry did the best he could but cramped was always the name of the game, or my little apartment. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoyed it, but I wanted the freedom to move about in my own place. I have sandstone colored brick that cost me a little extra but I think it looks better than the garish red brick everyone else has. I went by every few days watching the house come to life.

It sort of surprised me when I recently got a letter from Croft and Drake publishers. I had to think back on all the manuscripts I had sent out. I even took out my notebook and there it was, in small print. It was a smaller company, relatively new out of Pennsylvania. They were the eighth publisher I had sent a manuscript to and hadn't heard back from them yet. I had actually forgotten about it entirely.

I opened the envelope and pulled out the contents.

_**Dear Mr. Curtis,**_

_**After much consideration of your manuscript, **_**Hot Tulsa Nights, ****_we have decided it meets our criteria for our growing young adult section, and would be delighted to publish it. However, your manuscript needs some editing and minor corrections, and we have assigned Joyce Donnovanto be your editor. You may contact her at (###-###-####) to proceed with this phase of publication._**

_**After the editing process we can proceed to the next phase. Congratulations on your work. We look forward to hearing from you soon. **_

_**Tom Adams**_

_**Croft-Drake Publishing**_

"Whoa! This was not happening. It was accepted? Really? I put the papers down, not trusting myself to read them. For the rest of the day, I just sort of floated. The next day I called and spoke with Mrs. Donnovan.

"Well, Ponyboy, you have some punctuation errors...apparently you are a comma happy kind of guy, along with some other typos and a little sentence structure to fix. There is a bit of redundancy in chapters 6, 18 and 22, but that can be fixed. Now the story...the story itself is solid. It will take a bit of work, but we'll get it done."

It was nothing like doing illustrations and would be a longer more tedious process, but I was on my way to being an author. A real bona fide go-into-any-bookstore-and-see-my-words-on-the-shelf author.

XXX

Ashley had her eighteenth birthday on the 16th of June, and we had a big BBQ for her. Since prom, she and I have spent a lot of time together, talking about everything or just holding hands all quiet and sweet like. I just enjoyed being with her. Now that summer was here, I realized it had been a year since I met her. I smiled at the thought of how happy she made me.

I decided not to take a summer class this time, my house was nearing completion and I needed to spend time working on it. Also, one of Mr. Roberts neighbor friends had five horses he was selling and was using part of my land - with my permission -to stable them. The agreement basically was if he put the stable and the temporary fencing up, I would let them stay there rent free until my house was ready, but I also got to ride the horses whenever I wanted to. So, my summer afternoons were spent with me and Ashley riding around my property. I was seriously thinking of buying two of the horses, the one I rode was a large black Appaloosa with white spots, while Ashley liked the disposition of the straw colored quarter horse.

However, with my house nearing completion in a few weeks, he put an ad in the "Horseman's Trader" magazine to try to stir up an interest and finally sell the horses. It gave the name of my little "ranch," as it were, and his phone number as I had no phone yet. When I was asked- rather unexpectedly- to name my ranch, there was only one name I could think of. I smiled when I said it. "Ponyboy's." As he didn't understand the full meaning behind it he thought nothing of it either. So the add was placed and all I could do was sit back and wait for someone to want the horses.

XCXCX

My house was finished a week before my birthday. My own eighteenth birthday, but to everyone else it was my twentieth. Even Ashley didn't know. I planned to tell her soon, but well, nature helped me out on that one.

I invited Ashley out for dinner, my birthday dinner, but I didn't tell her parents this. I just wanted a special evening with her and her alone. My stomach had been bothering me but I attributed it to nerves. I took some aspirin and went to pick her up, then off we went to this restaurant out near the base of the mountains. She looked so nice, wearing a minty green shirt and a floral print skirt. I was listening to her prattle on about how she was accepted to Pembroke City College and was looking forward to classes when half way there my side gave me another jolt of pain. I grabbed my side expecting to find a knife sticking out of it, but of course there wasn't one.

"Mike, you okay?"

I waited to see if anything else was going to hurt, but nothing felt wrong. I shook my head and smiled at her. "I'm fine...really...you were saying something about classes.....go on." I patted her hand and she laced her fingers into mine again. A few minutes later, another pain shot at my side and a dull throbbing ache set in. I squeezed her hand involuntarily as I wrenched my hand free from hers to grab my side again.

"Mike..." Her tone was one of caution.

"Just a spasm. I'm fine." But I was starting to wonder myself what was wrong. I had been running more lately, now that winter had passed, and I figured I'd pulled something because I wasn't warming up like I was supposed to. A tiny prickle of fear went through me that accompanied the throbbing ache that was settling in my side.

Ashley just kept glancing at me, totally forgetting her story of school and our futures. I just smiled at her and tried to ignore the stinging ache growing in my side.

Finally I made it to the restaurant and parked the car. As we walked from the gravel parking lot to the sidewalk the pain in my side took a nasty turn to the extreme as I felt like I had been slammed against a brick wall by an explosion in my side. It dropped me to my knees as I let out an audible groan and sucked in air, holding my side so tight as if I were punching myself. Something was _definitely_ not right.

"Mike!...What is it? What's wrong?" She was kneeling down next to me, worry all over her face.

"It's just a spasm, I dunno. I'll be okay." I tried to stand up but every time I tried to pull myself together, if felt like daggers exploding in my stomach and side. My muscles tensed up against my will as my side _demanded_ that I not straighten up.

"No, you're not okay, Michael. What is it? What can I do?"

Shock waves of pain radiated through my system. There was no way I'd be able to sit in a restaurant now. Plus, people were starting to stare at us. I forced myself to my feet, pain screaming at my side the whole time.

"You got your license now, right Ash?" I asked, panting through the pain.

"Yeah..." She said, terror in her eyes.

"Good, here..." I fished my keys out of my pocket. "You're driving us out of here."

I made it back into my car and slumped against the side as she made her way back down the road we had just come up on. She kept looking at me, worry in every glance. By now I was sweating something fierce and holding my side as tightly as I could. I wanted to scream but knew it would only terrify her, so I held it in.

"Mike, where am I going?" She asked finally, looking at me with wide eyes.

_Where are we going?_ I restated in my head,_ we're going to the one place I thought I would never, ever ask anyone to take me to unless I thought I was about to die...._

"Take me to the hospital, Ashley." I shook all over, whether it was from fear or pain I wasn't sure, both applied at this point.

XXX

How she found a hospital I don't know, but I now found myself laying on a gurney in the emergency room. My clothes had been stripped off me and people bounced around me, poking me with needles, putting oxygen on me, and then someone decided it would be fun to take their finger and jab it into my side, right where the fires from hell burned at that moment.

"Oww! Don't do that!" I yelped in spite of myself. I wanted to cuss, I wanted to cuss, I wanted to cuss. People were asking me questions...my name, address, age, allergies, family to call. Then in the mix of all this I saw the doctor pull out a needle about the length of my hand and dab some brown, sticky wet fluid over the spot that hurt the most. _Oh hell no you don't!_

"What are you gonna do with that?" I asked, he looked at me.

"Mr Curtis, I think you have an inflamed or ruptured appendix. I need to see if you're bleeding inside your abdomen. I'm going to use this needle to check for free blood. Hold still."

I had no choice. I felt the stab of the needle in my side and was literally held down by everyone around me. Through the scream of pain heard only inside my head, I heard him say to the nurse at my side..."Positive for bleeding, call the operating room for standby. Prep him for surgery."

Finally he came to my side where I could clearly see him.

Mr. Curtis, your appendix has ruptured and we need to take you to surgery to remove it. I see your chart has you at 20 years old...is that correct?"

"Yes." I stammered, everything happening too fast.

"The nurse will have consent forms for you and then we can give you something for the pain. After that, we'll take you upstairs for surgery."

"Ashley, I need to see Ashley." I called out. Suddenly some nurse was talking about surgery and procedures, risks and benefits, this and that. None of it made any sense to me. It hurt too damn much to think.

"Sign here, Mr. Curtis."

She handed me a pen in my hand and I shakily signed...something.

"I want to see Ashley."

"Mr. Curtis, we need to take you..."

"...**Ashley**!" I screamed, stopping the nurse in her tracks. "I need to see her, **now**!"

"Fine." The nurse said icily and left the room a second, returning momentarily with Ashley.

"Mike?" Boy she looked scared.

"Look, I'm gonna be fine. I know I will." I tried to be reassuring. "But if something happens to me, call this number for me and tell who ever answers the phone who I am and where I am." She got out a pen and piece of paper, writing down a long hidden number I had only used twice since leaving home over a year ago. "**Don't** call them unless something happens to me. **Promise** me...Ash...promise me."

The nurse had to have given me medicine in one of the many IV'sthey had placed in my arms, because I was getting sleepy, with a detached feeling sweeping over me.

"Ashley..." I called out, my voice going numb. "I love you." I wasn't sure if I said it. I hope I did. Damn... I cant...keep....my...eyes...open.

XXX

Okay...There are those of you who seem to not want Pony's book published. I do. I'm the one writing this, so I win. But I appreciate your words and know **from experience** that yeah...first time works are rarely printed. I had my own bout of disappointment with that years ago. But I still appreciate your reviews, words of wisdom and continuing support. Thank you. Calla Lilly Rose.


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Turning The Page

Andy was into everything! Nothing was safe in the house, and our place isn't exactly _child friendly_ anyway. I never remembered Ponyboy being this involved in stuff, but Andy was. Pony _may_ have been, seeing how I am only 2 years older than he is, but I don't remember. I managed to get everyone to watch Andy while Patty went to school, but they only agreed to do it if he was at our house. Darry looked like he was gonna blow a gasket at first, but over the weeks he seems to enjoy having Andy around. The kid certainly takes your mind off the other troubles we have.

Two-Bit especially likes having Andy to watch. It gives him a legitimate excuse to watch more cartoons. Two-Bit's nothing but a big kid anyway, an employed big kid who shaves and drinks too much, but a kid at heart none the less.

Steve is the only one who has issues with watching him, and only does so once every two weeks on the odd weekday he is off work. That's provided we can call him on it before he comes up with some excuse for why he cant. I didn't expect more from him, considering his disregard for Ponyboy, and Pony could at least wipe his own ass after going to the bathroom. Andy...well he wasn't quite up to that yet.

So for now, Patty was busy with school, we were all busy with work and someone at our house was busy with Andy. We fell into a routine and days began to leapfrog over the other as weeks went by, then months.

Somewhere around mid March, I was being scheduled for a follow-up on my kidneys at the VA and needed to get my military medical records out to have ready. I knew they were in the lock box so I got it from Darry's closet, got my switch from its new hiding spot in the glassware cabinet (little hands pry too much in drawers three feet off the ground) flicked out the blade and popped the lock on the box.

I found my stuff, then couldn't help myself. I took out the money. His hands had held this, had put it in these envelopes. His spit had sealed the envelopes. He was out there somewhere playing some damn game of hide and go seek with us. _Where did you go_? I thought again for what had to be the ten millionth time. _Why wont you call? Why wont you come home_? Every record he had out there...his check from the casino, his medical records, school records, court records … they were all tagged so if he ever tried to access them, the folks holding the records would contact us, but nothing ever came of it. Darry had periodically checked to see if he tried to make contact, but Pony never did.

I pulled out my birth certificate and looked at it, then pulled out Darry's too. Finally I rifled through the papers and found Ponyboy's. I put his next to ours and stared at them. Something was odd about them. Mine and Darry's were similar, a few slight changes but Pony's was really different. The paper was different, but that wasn't it either. I looked closer, reading the whole thing. His date of birth, time of birth, his length and weight, parents names, location of …... **OH MY GOD**!

I grabbed the phone.

"Tulsa Construction, Henry here."

"Henry, lemme talk to Darry, Darry Curtis." I about screamed.

"Who's this?" Henry asked.

"Henry, it's me, Sodapop. I need to speak to Darry. It's important." _Now put him on the goddamn phone or so_ _help me I'm gonna go over there and toss you off that fuckin' roof myself_, I thought.

"Hold on..."

A muffled noise followed then Darry was on the line. "Darrel Curtis, how can..."

"... Darry, shuttup. It's Soda. Look, when you called the hospital to put a tag on Pony's records, did you call Kansas?"

A long pause followed, then... "Soda, what are you talking about?"

"Look... Did. You. Call. Kansas? He was born in Independence, Kansas, _remember_? Not here in Tulsa, like us. So...yes or no, did you call them?"

A silence fell over the phone line, like he had dropped the receiver. Then, as if every word was its own sentence, he said flatly...

"No. I didn't."

Oh Holy Hell...what had we missed? My grip on the receiver was white knuckled.

"I'm gonna call them. You'll be home around six, right?"

"Yeah, hopefully sooner."

"See ya." I hung up. He was my brother, pleasantries could wait.

I looked on his birth certificate and got the name of the hospital, dialed information to get their phone number then took a deep breath as I dialed and waited.

"Mercy Hospital, how may I help you?"

"Birth certificates department, please."

"Hold on..."

"Vital statistics – how may I help you?"

"I'm trying to find my brother who ran off a year ago. He was born in your hospital and I'm trying to find out if he has requested a copy of his birth certificate. He's still a minor, 17 years old. Can you help me?"

"What's his name?"

"Ponyboy Michael Curtis, born July 22." I told her, fingers braiding into the phone cord. I looked over at Andy, still sleeping on the couch.

"That's a familiar name...hold on. I'll check his file." She put the phone down and I heard the sound of footsteps walking away, then a minute or so later, they came back. "Lets see...Ponyboy Michael Curtis, born 22 July at 10:15 AM to a Beverly and Darrel Curtis Sr. That him?"

"Yes...thats my brother. Can you tell me if he's requested any copies of his birth certificate?"

"Ummm, yes, here it is. One copy requested and mailed off. Doesn't say to where it went though. Went out last March...a year ago."

I stood there, rooted to the floor, blood draining from my face. Stunned. "Does it have the requisition form for the copy? A letter from him asking for it....anything?"

"I'm sorry, no sir."

"Does anyone even remember sending it" I was grasping for straws, but at the moment it was all I had to grasp for.

"Hold on, I'll ask." A muffled sound went over the receiver then a moment later a new voice was on the phone.

"Hi. I think I sent that copy out. He has such an original name, otherwise I 'd probably have forgotten it by now. I just remember it went north. Either Minnesota or Montana. I know that's not much help, sorry."

"Look, if he requests another copy, he's a missing 17 year old kid. Can you tag his file to notify us if he contacts you?"

"Sure, let me get your information...."

I put the tag on it and hung up, then collapsed in a chair. _A year ago_. We could have had him home _a year ago_. I couldn't believe how close we were and still so far away.

XX

I was fixing dinner later when Darry came in. He didn't even take off his boots, just came straight to the kitchen.

"Well, you find anything?" he asked, getting right to the point. Darry was not one for beating around the bush.

I flipped the potatoes. Without looking at him, I simply said... "He requested his birth certificate last March and they mailed it out. They didn't keep his address on file, nor do they remember it. She _thinks_ it might have been Minnesota or Montana. May as well add Maryland, Michigan, Maine, Mississippi, and Massachusetts to it too." I was angry, and was taking it out on the potatoes. "We could have had him home a year ago, Darry." My voice collapsed. "A year ago!"

His arms went around me from behind. "I'm sorry Soda. I forgot about Kansas. It's my fault." His voice was gruff but gentle. It was killing him too.

"No, it's not." I let him off the hook. We had enough pain without adding more to it. I made our plates and we sat down to eat, but all I could do was stare at the empty chair across from me at the table, wondering again at all the "what if''s" in my life.

XX

Spring gave way to summer and I wasn't looking forward to the blazing heat the sun put on my backside, but work was work and as usual, we needed the money.

I looked at the calender. June. Pony would be finishing his first year of college by now if he hadn't left home. As usual, when no one else is around, I end up traveling that long dusty road called memory lane. He pulled a fast one on me, I thought, getting his birth certificate. I wondered what he was doing with it, what he needed it for, how he was using it.

I heard the front door crack open and smelled a strong odor of gasoline. Before ever seeing him, I knew it was Steve.

"Hey, buddy, what's up?"

"Some bimbo bitch didn't know how to use the damn pump. Can I use your shower?"

"Help yourself." I watched as Steve made his way down the hall and heard the faucets start. I rummaged through Soda and Pony's old closet and found an old pair of work pants and an old DX shirt that still had _Sodapop_ embroidered on it. It would do for now.

While in there, I found yet another hidden sketch book of Pony's and pulled it out. This one was definitely old, the edges had begun to yellow. Opening it up, I saw drawings of a building on a hill, Johnny.....Dallas....Ponyboy..... things I didn't recognize.

The shower stopped and after a minute Steve was there at my side, a towel draped around his waist.

"Pony do those?" He asked, looking at them with me.

"Yep." I found one he drew of himself and Johnny, standing close together like I remembered they used to be, at what looked like a church. Then it dawned on me, he drew these after the fire, when he was stuck here in bed for a week. The sketch pad was full of scenes of just him and Johnny and Dallas. Even then, he could capture their expressions well. The drawings he did of himself even looked happy. Happier than I'd remembered seeing him in a long time. I wished I could give him back that happiness. He changed so much after that week. Even though we got him back physically, this part of him died along with Johnny. I wondered what other parts of his soul died when he got word that Soda was gone too. I understood better why he ran off. Pain is an emotion one can only take so much of. But for right now, we were saddled with more pain then even he knew of.

"This ain't all that's left of him, Darry. He's out there, we'll find him." Steve said taking the clothes from me.

I closed the sketch pad, wondering _when._

"Tell me Steve...if you were him, what would you be doing right now?"

He looked at me, smiling sort of. "Oh, God, I don't think I can be that pure...but alright, for you, I'll try. If I were Ponyboy Curtis...I would be....doing my homework, reading some sappy book, ignoring all the hot babes giving me the eye, and annoying the piss out of Steve Randle. There, how's that?" He asked, buckling his belt.

I grinned, folding the sketch pad up and putting it away. "If only he were here to annoy you." I said walking away. If I had stayed in the room, I might have heard what Steve said low and under his breath...

"Yeah, if only he was here."

XX

July's heat made me sticky. The boss didn't like me using the air conditioner in the truck, so I had to deliver the parts in the heat. My route took me out of Tulsa, and I liked that. It gave me new chances to ask around about Ponyboy. I'd show his picture and ask but as time went on, I knew it was a losing cause. Even if people_ had_ seen him, they wouldn't remember him now that more than a year has passed. My own hopes were fading on us finding him, but I never could accept that we'd never _see_ him again. God and fate couldn't be that cruel.

YY

I untangled myself from Patty's arm, careful to not wake her up and sat on the side of the bed. Scrubbing my face with my hand, I looked at my watch, it was going on seven in the morning. I had to be at work in an hour, so I set about finding my clothes. How did my shirt get on the lamp? Oh well. I pulled it back on and found my underwear and pants, pulling those on too. A rustle on the bed caused me to look over. Her eyes were peaking out at me, a smile on her face._ Glad I could satisfy ya, honey_.

"Hey Patty. I hate to run off, but I better get going or my ass will be on the unemployment line."

"Your ass will always be welcome here." She said, sighing, pulling me close. I could tell she wanted round three, but that would have to wait.

"I'd love to stay, but I really have to go. If I can get home with enough time, I can grab a quick shower before the rig picks me up. As much as I'd love to, I don't think the crew would appreciate me smelling like you all day." I smiled at her, then bent down to kiss her.

"Okay," she relented, letting me go and burrowing back down into the sheets, "but call me later."

Definitely.

ZZZ

"Did you have fun last night or should I even ask?" Darry asked me as I was drying off after a quick shower.

"Don't ask." I replied. "And stop telling me to be careful... I am. Very careful."

"Thank God for small favors." I heard him mutter as he walked away. "Soda, your rides here." He yelled from the living room. I grabbed my EMT hat and started for the front door.

"You gonna be home by four today, right Darry?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'll pick up the flowers this year, Soda. You did it last year."

I nodded, watching him get the candle down from the cabinet. The guys on the rig were getting impatient and honked, so I closed the door and joined them. It was July 22. My brothers birthday, again.

BBBBB

I noticed the burning candle on the table when I walked in. Another year has come and gone and we were no closer to finding him then we were after our trip to Nevada. That was depressing. I took another shower to get the smell of work off me. My DX job left me smelling of oil and grease, this one left me smelling of blood, vomit and shit. I dressed and met Darry in the living room. He was already set to go. I wondered if there would be another bouquet of flowers from Pony waiting for us to find. I was almost hoping so, telling me he was still out there and would remember our small tradition. But as we walked to mom and dad's grave site, there wasn't one. I felt even more empty than I had before, and I didn't think that was possible. Darry put the flowers down and we stood there, side by side. I didn't want to speak, feeling like nothing I said would matter.

"Please, mom and dad, no more candles. Help us find him. Keep him safe." Darry said simply. I leaned up against him and he put his arm around my shoulder. Silently, we turned and headed home.

"He's 18 now, Darry." I said quietly in the truck.

"I know, Soda."

"State can't touch him now."

"I know that, too."

XCVXCV

I thank you for the wonderful reviews you have sent. I had an alternate ending for this … but I changed it at the last minute. Here it is...

"State can't touch him now."

"I know," Darry said, still very quietly, "but the draft board can."

Oh God...not again!

Thanks folks... Calla Lilly Rose


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter 58

Hospital Stay

Mike looked so terrible. They brought him out of surgery an hour ago but he was still asleep. I tried whispering his name to him, but he just laid there, totally oblivious to me and the world. I called my parents and told them what had happened, that I'd be here with him at the hospital. They understood. So for now, I'm just sitting by his side, holding his hand and praying he'd be okay.

I didn't know what to do for him. My eyes kept looking at the phone number he gave me, and my heart and head kept doing flip flops on whether I should call or not. Mike was adamant that I not call, but why would you _not_ want what little is left of your family to know you were hurt and needed them. It didn't make sense to me. I sighed, putting the number back in my purse. I knew I wouldn't make the call unless he didn't wake up by morning. I looked at my watch, it was going on eleven at night.

"Mike, please wake up." I whispered again. Nothing. I settled back in my chair and held his hand again. He's such a private person. Talented with art and words...who'd have guessed he also plays the piano? I looked at his hands now, and I could see it in them too. Piano hands. Long strong fingers. However, his hands also have a history. His nails are all chewed up, and he's got small scars from multiple injuries over his knuckles. Whatever his past was that sent him away, well, it had to have been rough.

I was getting so tired, I put my head down on the bed next to him with my hand in his to get a moment of rest. The next thing I knew it was two in the morning and I was being jerked back to my senses as I felt movement in my hand. I looked at him, he was covered in sweat and was mumbling quietly, eyes closed as if still asleep.

"Soda....don't leave me.... stay, please........"

I held his hand tighter, wishing for all the world I could bring his brother so long ago lost to him back. I watched with my heart breaking as tears began to fall from his closed lids. He'd mumble his dead brother's name a few times more, then said softly....

"Darry....I'm sorry.......so sorry."

I couldn't take it any longer. I let him go as I moved closer. "Mike? Michael? Wake up... please!" I now sat by him on his bed, one hand laying across his chest, my other hand pushing the hair from his sweaty forehead. I whispered to him, and it seemed to calm him.

"It's Ashley, Michael. I'm here. You can wake up, Mike...it's okay."

His other hand came up and found my hand on his chest, holding it, and he calmed down again. He seemed comfortable, so I didn't try to wake him anymore. I lay with him as I was, my head laying on his shoulder and my hand in his on his chest. Finally I relaxed as he seemed asleep, and I remembered something. Granted it was a few hours late, but I whispered to him, "Happy Birthday, Michael," then put my head down and went to sleep with him next to me, my hand in his.

Around five in the morning, the nurse was gently shaking me awake.

"Miss...we need to take care of him..." I opened my eyes and sat up, disorientated. Then I remembered and looked at Mike. He had a stain of blood seeping through his gown.

"We need to change his bandage and get him a new gown."

"Why is he bleeding like that?" I asked as the nurses didn't bother waiting for me to leave. They took off his gown and started on his bandage. With his gown off, I got quite a look at him. Everything below his incision was covered and for that, I was glad. I already felt like was invading his privacy, betraying some unspoken trust by seeing him like this, but I couldn't make my feet leave. Then my eyes froze as I saw his chest. He had muscle on muscle on his chest and stomach, which I had never realized before. He's always covered up, so _very_ private a person. I finally turned away, almost embarrassed by my breach of conduct. I couldn't help but smile though. He was definitely built.

"Does he take a lot of aspirin?" The nurse thankfully cut into my thoughts.

"Yes ma'am." I remembered seeing a bottle of it when I drove his car, and I knew he carried it in his bag at school. He had told me once of his headaches.

"Aspirin causes bleeding to worsen." She said simply. She put a new bandage over the incision where they operated on him, then put a fresh gown on him, finally covering him with the blanket. I resumed my spot on the chair as they left, my hand once again holding his. The early dawn was still an hour away. I lay my head down next to his hand and drifted back to sleep.

NNNNN

I opened my eyes to see Ashley asleep in the chair next to me. It was a bit of a shock, I wasn't sure who I'd find next to me, if anyone at all. I looked at her while she slept. Even asleep she was beautiful. So serene. I didn't want to wake her. Instead, I started taking stock of my current predicament.

My side hurt, but it wasn't the screaming pain like I'd had in the car. Now it was a dull constant throb. I pulled off my blanket, pulled up my gown and took a look at the damage. From hip bone to my navel but about four inches over on my right side was a long bandage that covered the incision. It was very sore, so I tried not to mess with it. I put my gown back down just as Ashley started to stir.

"Hey, Michael. How are ya feeling?"

"Hey Ash. I'm okay. Sore but okay. I'm sorry I ruined your night."

She propped herself up on her elbow and looked at me. "You didn't ruin it, I got to spend it with you. That's all I wanted."

I smiled at her, my hand brushing her sandy hair back. "I'm glad you're here." I said, pulling myself painfully up on my pillow.

"Mike, I'd do anything for you, but I have to ask...why didn't you want Darry? You asked for him in your sleep...."

I stared at her, wondering what else I had said in my sleep. I wasn't sure. Just knowing I had said Darry's name out loud got to me, or maybe it was the medicine in my system, or a combination of both but in any case confusion and guilt took over. I started to shake some as a major rush of emotion went through my body. It was time to give up my ghosts.

She just kept looking at me. Something in her eyes told me I could tell her, and quite frankly, I was too tired of keeping it all in. Again, maybe it was the medicine, but I opened up to her more than I ever expected to. I held her hand, and began.

"I have a very convoluted, twisted past that is in many ways more complicated than even I can fully explain right now. What I tell you may make you want to leave me. If you do, I won't stop you, but I trust you to keep it a secret.

"First off, yesterday _was_ my birthday, but not my twentieth. I'm eighteen now." I caught her eyes opening wider. "Yeah, you're older than I am. My parents died when I was thirteen and my oldest brother, Darry, retained custody of me and Soda. They both raised me as best they could, then I got into some trouble and a few of my friends died. It wasn't my fault directly, but I've lived with the guilt for it anyway ever since.

"Then Soda got drafted into the Army and was sent to Vietnam." I let go of her hand as my chin began to quiver and the tears began to flow. She already knew Soda died there, but I couldn't stop myself. What ever medicine they had me on really screwed up my defenses...all the walls were coming down. She got out of the chair and sat next to me on the bed, taking my hand in hers again.

"He was so young – granted older than me by almost three years, yeah, that made him eighteen when he died.._.too_ damn young to die! He was the only thing truly good in my life and the Army took him away and had him_ slaughtered _like a _**sheep**_! He was my_ brother_, and they _**killed**_ him." My words spewed out through clenched teeth. I hadn't to this point let my anger out about it. Yeah, I have cried since for the tragedy, but the anger stayed put. But now it poured out of me like a raging fountain from my chest.

I started to sob. I found myself being pulled gently against her, my head resting on her shoulder. I put my arms around her and she tenderly held me back, rocking me ever so slightly. She never told me to stop, never shushed my words. She just let me let it out. I cried on her shoulder, accepting her tender embrace. Finally, when my sobs weakened to silence, I pulled away and wiped my tears. I noticed she too had tears.

"I left everything. Left home, left school, left Darry, left friends, left my whole way of life. I don't even remember it, the packing, the leaving. I just remember being in an empty rail road car riding in the cold, alone with my thoughts.

"I ended up in Las Vegas, got a fake ID, gambled a little, winning some – enough to get me by on." I didn't tell her how much. That was my secret, and it was gonna take a lot more pain medicine than what I was currently on to get that secret out of me. "Then I came to Wolf Creek, and set up a new life for myself. New name, new address, new life. What I wasn't expecting was you."

I smiled at her. She had been holding my hand, our fingers intertwined. She was still quiet.

"What do you think now? Ready to run for the hills? The cops? Report me as a fraud?"

"So what is your name then?" She simply and quietly asked.

I looked at her, there wasn't anything evil in her eyes. I could tell her.

"Ponyboy. Ponyboy Michael Curtis."

She looked at me, still not pulling away or laughing. Her eyes piercing deep into my own. I still had her hand intertwined with mine, but it wasn't enough. I was getting so lost in her eyes. It hurt the incision on my side, but I leaned to her and she reciprocated. I put my free hand to the side of her face, feeling the softness of her skin. I pushed her hair back, moving my hand to her neck and gently ever so gently pulling her even closer, until our lips were barely apart. Then with one last pull I erased the distance between us, giving her and receiving from her my first kiss.

Her mouth opened and allowed my tongue to taste hers. As our mouths moved with increasing fervor, I enveloped myself in this feeling. It was warm and wonderful, and I never wanted it to end. Eventually, I felt her pull away and I let go, still cupping her face in my hands.

She touched my cheek with her hand, felt the smallest of stubble on my chin then gently closed my eyes with the lightest touch of her fingertips. In that moment of blindness, her lips met mine again. She was as hungry for me as I was for her, and the feeling was glorious. Within seconds, it was over. She released me and stood up.

"I better go now, Ponyboy, but I'll be back." As my hand still held hers, her fingers slowly began to unravel themselves from mine. Before she fully let go, she bent down to me again and looked me in the eyes, then said ever so softly, "I love you, Ponyboy." Then she turned and walked out the door.

I was left wrapped in a feeling of emotional ecstasy. Every sense in my body was alive and yearning. It was probably a good thing she left, as my control had withered away to nothing, and I didn't even want to fight it anymore.

XXX

I stayed in the hospital for two more days, Ashley careful to visit only with her parents, but the look in her eyes shined as bright as stars when she looked at me. She kept my secrets as her parents still called me "Michael." I understood why she came to see me only with her family present, I didn't trust myself - at least not while on these pain medicines. I would never hurt her, but my feelings for her were increasingly hard to suppress.

The morning I was being discharged from the hospital, I called Mr. Roberts and asked him if he could come drive me back to his place. I was still staying in the apartment until I was ready to move into my own home, now delayed due to my sudden surgery. He was happy to come and was bringing a friend so my car could be brought back too.

"Hey Michael, ready to roll out of here?" He asked as I was waiting for my discharge papers.

"Am I ever!" I said smiling.

"Great. Jim here will drive my car back so you and I can bring your car home too. That okay with you?"

"Yes sir, thank you."

Jim took his keys and left, and it was just me and Mr. Roberts. I had my things in a paper sack, wearing fresh clothes Mr. Roberts brought me from my closet. The nurse came in and I got in the wheelchair, then she wheeled me out to the front door.

As I settled in my car, Mr. Roberts tried to make small talk but I stopped him.

"Mr Roberts, you've been like a dad to me for almost two years." I started to say but paused too long.

"Why, thank you, Michael," he said, startled.

"So I have to tell you something. I realize its gonna be a bit unusual what I have to say, but I can't pretend anymore."

He just looked at me, waiting.

"My name … 'Michael' …is my middle name, not my first." I started, unsure where to go next.

"I know, Ponyboy."

I looked at him. "You knew? For how long?"

"When I went to get your clothes, I saw your diploma on the bookshelf, along with the books you illustrated. It's an interesting name you have, but nothing to be ashamed of. Why did you hide it?"

"I'm not ashamed. I love my name. I hid it because along with that name ... is a whole lot of hurt and pain."

"Anything I can do, son?"

"No, you and Mrs. Roberts have been good as gold to me. I couldn't begin to think where I'd be if I hadn't found you."

"Well, Ponyboy, pain doesn't go away unless you let it heal." A small silence took up space in the car. "That young lady in the picture sure put a smile on your face, and a twinkle in your eyes."

He saw the prom picture, and I smiled again, thinking of Ashley.

"She must be special?"

"Yes, sir. Very special." I smiled thinking of her, and must have turned a few shades of pink too.

"Why, Ponyboy, I don't think I've seen you this happy or this wide eyed in the whole time I've known you. Someone that special comes along only once in a lifetime."

"I know. I'm just.... scared of losing her." He looked at me, confused. He didn't know my past, he wouldn't understand. "People I love... tend to ...well...." I couldn't say it.

"Don't be so blindsided by the past that you cant look towards the future. You wait too long, everyone will be gone. Then you'll always be alone, still feeling like it's all your fault when it wasn't in the beginning, but will be in the end. Unless you decide to change it."

He pulled into his driveway, parking my car in its usual spot. I got out and stretched – at least until my stitches said 'stop' anyway.

"Think about it, Michael, um... Ponyboy, you only have one life to live. May as well be happy living it. Anything else you need, son?"

I looked at him. I don't know what overcame me, perhaps being called 'son' one time too many, but I put my arms around him, and then he hugged me back. "Thanks." I said.

"You're a good young man, Ponyboy, with a good head on your shoulders. Never forget that." He said this to me before letting me go. With a smile and a strong grip on my shoulder, he nodded, then gave me back my keys and headed into his house, leaving me by my car. I looked up into the sky and smiled.

"I love you, dad."

CLR

Calla Lilly would like to thank all the readers, but is very surprised at how many folks got all sidetracked by the alternate ending to the last chapter. That is why I said it was **discarded**. I had hoped you would all be more interested in what the group did for the many months leading up to that point.


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter 59

Mountain Perch

By the beginning of August, I was ready to move into my house. I didn't have much, just a few chairs. I asked Ashley to help me with picking out furniture and she was happy to oblige. Find me a lady that doesn't like to shop!

By the end of the day, she had picked out a dining set, sofa and two arm chairs for the living room, washer and dryer and other assorted small things. There was only one set of furniture left to pick out, and I noticed she purposefully kept steering me out of that section. The bedroom section.

I just smiled, wondering if I went too far at the hospital. Neither of us had mentioned our feelings of that day since I was released, but neither of us pretended it didn't happen either. Our glances to each other betrayed that emotion too well. But I was starting to worry and had to find out. We stopped later at the park to walk and get snow cones.

"Ashley, back at the hospital... I'm sorry if I did something that made you feel uncomfortable. I was on quite a few pain medicines....."

She turned and looked at me. "Ponyboy, you didn't do anything I didn't want done. I love you. If anything, I feel guilty taking advantage of you. After all, you're so much younger than I am! I'm practically robbing the cradle!" She was laughing at me.

I gave her a gentle shove with my finger, then sighed, smiling at her.

"What?" She asked.

"It feels so nice to hear my name, my _real name_ being used again."

"Well, if you had told me your real name from the get- go, you'd have heard it a lot longer." She smiled. Then she was quiet for a while, too quiet.

"What are you thinking?" I prodded.

"Are you hiding anything else from me?" She asked, quietly.

"Hmm, well, I've covered my parents, my brothers, my friends, my dropping out of school, my running away, my fake ID, my coming here. I told you how I got my GED and you already know I'm in college.... I think thats it. Oh, yeah....I'm rich." I said smiling at her.

She looked at me. "How rich?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Even I get to keep a secret or two." I said smiling.

"Uggh! Ponyboy!... Well, okay. You can keep that secret. I'm rich, just by having you." She smiled at me, holding my hand.

"Ashley, have you ever considered your long term future...you know, if you want to be with someone or not?"

She looked at me, surprise in her eyes. "Yeah. I don't want to be alone. I want someone who will love me for _me_, for all my good and bad ways. I ain't perfect, so whoever wants me had better accept that. Why?"

"I was just wondering." I mused. "You ready for college to start?" I changed the subject.

"Oh yeah! Daddy got me a great advisor, he's going to make sure all my classes are set up for me. It does help when there's an inside influence keeping me on the right pathway. And you! One more year and you'll have your degree!"

I smiled. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to finally having my first walk across the stage."

"I'm proud of you, Ponyboy."

"I love you, Ashley."

XX

I had a housewarming party that Saturday. Mrs. Roberts insisted, so it seemed everyone I knew showed up for it. Thankfully, my furniture had arrived, otherwise we'd all be standing around looking stupid – me the most since it was my place. But no one seemed to mind that while there were chairs and places to sit...there simply wasn't enough of them. By the looks of things, everyone had a good time.

I noticed Dr. Benning outside alone on the porch and went to join him. I needed to ask him something, and it was gonna take all the guts I had left in me to do it.

"This is a fine home you have here, Michael." He said, looking at me. "Are you planning on keeping those horses?"

The Appaloosa and Quarter Horse were still here, as if fate were nudging me on. The others had been sold. The ad was still in the magazine for another month, but no one was calling anymore.

"I haven't decided yet, sir." I just kept looking at him, and he finally turned to me, questioning my gaze.

"What is it, Michael?"

"I need to ask you something, and tell you something...I'm just not sure which order I need to put it in." Boy, was I stumbling over my words.

He smiled. "Lets go take a walk." He put his arm over my shoulder and led me off the porch. "What's on your mind?"

I looked at him. "I love your daughter, sir. I love her very much."

There went his arm, right off my shoulder. However, he just smiled faintly while looking off over the property. "She's quite infatuated with you too, Michael."

We walked in silence over to the fence where the horses were.

"May I have your permission to marry her?" I asked, my throat dry as a bone.

He just stared at the horses. The Appaloosa had his neck draped over the Quarter, neither of them moved. It was as if they knew their fate was being determined at this moment too.

"Those horses sure go well together, as different as they are, they seem to work best when they are teamed up."

What that had to do with "yes" or "no" I had no idea. It would come to me later, but right then it was like an airplane.... way over my head.

"I want her to finish college. Her education is important to me. I'll continue to pay for it, but she needs to go. Have you asked her yet, Michael?"

"No, sir. I wanted to ask you first."

"You're a good man." He was walking again, I went with him.

"What type of work are you doing now, Mike?"

"Mr. Quinn sent me his latest book to illustrate, and Mrs. Ford wants me to do cover art for another manuscript. My own manuscript is halfway through the publication process. It's coming together. The high school said they wanted me to come back and help coach the track team again this year too."

"Got your plate full of projects then, huh?"

"Nothing I can't handle. Illustrations aren't hard, just time consuming. Track won't be until next spring. My upcoming class schedule is a good one too. I'm doing okay." I looked at him.

He finally stopped and put his hands on my shoulders.

"Michael, I give you my permission. If Ashley will have you as her husband, I'd be proud to have you as my son-in-law."

I smiled and turned crimson. He pulled me into a hug and patted my back. "You both make a great team." I looked at the horses. Got it, finally.

"There may be a few other things you need to know. I've already told Ashley, but I think you deserve to know too. I just hope you wont think less of me for it."

He just looked at me.

"My first name isn't Michael. It's Ponyboy. Just like I had on Mr. Quinn's books. I stopped using it when I came here, but I want it back. I'm not going to hide it anymore.

For the longest time, he just stood there and looked at me. I expected him to tell me he changed his mind and to leave Ashley alone. But then he cleared his throat and smiled. "Well then, I'm glad you told me. Wedding invitations wont look right if the grooms name is all wrong."

"I haven't decided when I'll ask her." He was already talking about invitations...Lordy...slow down!

"Well, when you do, I'm sure we'll know. I wont say a word to Eleanor about this."

We walked in silence back to my house and I just smiled. There was Ashley, chatting away with her mother and Mrs. Roberts, while Mr. Roberts sat in the chair, watching, smiling at them too. I could read his mind.._ yack yack yack...just like a bunch of hens_!

Mr. Roberts got up and joined Dr. Benning and me.

"Well, we have to get going now. Ponyboy, you come over anytime you want to. Do _not_ make yourself a stranger, you hear me? And if you ever need anything, you call. Anytime – day or night." He held out his hand and I shook it.

"I will, thank you, Mr. Roberts."

"Dr. Benning, pleasure to meet you, sir!"

"Likewise!" I watched as my former landlord and former instructor shook hands, then Mr. Roberts called to his wife and they left. Not long after that, Dr. Benning and his wife also made their way to their car. Ashley hung back a moment.

"I love your home, Ponyboy." She said, standing close to me, wrapping her arm around mine. She laid her head on my shoulder and I turned, holding her in my arms.

"I'm glad you do." I said quietly, feeling her warmth on me.

"I'd better go before they start to wonder." She pulled out of my embrace, but paused a moment, placing her hand on my cheek. I dipped my head a little, feeling her hand on my skin.

"Can I pick you up tomorrow for lunch?" I asked her as she started to pull away from me.

"Of course. Eleven o'clock?"

"Perfect. Bye Ashley."

"Bye, Ponyboy."

XXX

I found that the one thing I was shopping for was harder than I ever thought possible to pick out. Hell, there were more options in picking out bread than picking out a diamond. Why is it you can run in the store, get a loaf of bread and be back in your car before the engine gets cold, but it can take you hours picking out a little piece of pressurized carbon? And you'll _sweat_ making that decision, too!

I know the jeweler was ready to throw me out, but I finally found one I felt was good enough. To me, it was a pretty diamond ring. To him it was a one carat Cushion cut diamond with four smaller diamonds set in 14 karat white gold. I guess the more words you add in, the more it costs, and it cost a bunch. It had a squared diamond in the middle with 2 smaller diamonds on either side of the center stone, and it just sparkled like stars at night. I went ahead and bought it. He said I could bring it back for the sizing when I wanted to.

I tried to act all normal when I picked up Ashley, but I think I had forgotten what normal was by then.

"Something wrong, Ponyboy?"

"No, Ashley, everything is fine. Just nervous about school starting soon." I'm not even able to lie with conviction anymore. She looked at me, then rolled her eyes.

I bought sandwiches and drinks then took her to Wolf Creek. I parked at the bottom of the hill and took her hand.

"Ready to climb?" I asked. I had brought her to the spot out of the city limits, to the tiny alcove perched way above us. To the spot I liked to come to and think when my head would get too full. Where I had slept the night I got my drivers license. The climb wouldn't be too hard, I knew she could do it.

She followed me up and about twenty minutes or so later, we made it.

"Wow, Ponyboy!" She said, looking out at the breathtaking panoramic view. "This is beautiful!" It was beautiful. Green grasses, moving like a wave with the gentle breeze, covered the prairie and the mountains in the distance seemed to empower everything in its shadows.

We sat and ate the food, looking out and around us. I pointed out into the distance to some deer prancing about. From the mountains came another bald eagle, soaring close by us.

"Now I know how you are able to draw them so well. They practically come to _you_." She said, smiling. In part, it was sort of true. I had spent many hours here just watching wildlife. But for now, my eyes were on her and her alone.

"Ashley?" I said softly.

"Yeah?" She answered, still looking out at the deer.

I stood up, taking her hand in mind. She looked at me and got up too. I guess she thought I was ready to leave, but I stood as still as I could. Her eyes locked with mine and for a moment nothing moved. No sound was heard, even the air was still.

I took the box out of my pocket and bent down on one knee, holding her hand in mine. Her face paled some as realization hit her.

"Will you marry me?"

CLR


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Airplanes and Cars

September was in full swing now, fall leaves were changing the dirty landscape of Tulsa and time seemed to hurry up once more. Kids were back to school, which meant Andy was hunkered down at my house again. I got the task of watching him today, which means I have to work Saturday to make up for it. We all juggled our schedules so Patty could go to nursing school, at least someone was getting out of East Tulsa, just not the someone I had hoped for. I didn't mind my schedule change anymore, one working day on a roof was as just as good as the other. While he was busy playing with the Lincoln Logs Soda had bought him, I was busy getting laundry done.

Watching him reminded me of Ponyboy, he's an inquisitive little boy like Pony was. He explores everything. I have to keep my bedroom door shut - for that matter every door down the hall stays shut. I kept Pony and Soda's door closed anyway as I still, after nearly two years, can't see that room being anything other than _their_ room.

It's interesting to me that in the last two years, no one has really ventured in there at all - unless for example something was needed out of the closet. No one just _wound up_ in there. The room was never made off limits to anyone, but respect for our missing brother seemed to keep everyone out.

Soda remained in the smaller bedroom, making do with the cramped conditions without complaint. Even Steve, after he returned from Vietnam and needed a place to crash, used the couch just as he had before this whole rotten nightmare began. It wasn't all out of respect for Soda either. He missed Ponyboy as much as the rest of us, he'd just never admit to it. Even for him it just didn't feel right to be in Pony's space.

It's hard for me too. When I go in there, I can still see him in my mind's eye either at his desk doing his homework or sprawled out on the bed, drawing or sleeping. Even now, after two years, the memories are still too fresh. I miss him so much it still hurts.

"Anyone home? Heyya Andy, where's Darry?"

I came into the living room just in time to see Soda holding Andy, noticing how close a relationship Soda was building with him. Soda cradled that child with real affection. I could begin to see that Soda was quickly stepping into shoes of responsibility he hadn't worn before.

"Hey Pepsi. How was work?" I called, putting away the kitchen towels.

"Good. Had eleven calls today. Kept us busy, went straight through lunch. I'm starved, what's for dinner?"

"Pot roast and potatoes. It's ready when you are."

"Great. Andy eat yet?"

His comments stopped me in my tracks again, smiling. This responsibility thing was really becoming second nature for him. "Yeah, Andy ate. Kid eats like there's no tomorrow. Don't ya?" I said, first to Soda and then to Andy as he sat balanced on Soda's hip. I patted the boys head and noticed Patty coming up on the porch.

"Hey, where's my boy?" She called out once she came inside. Andy slid down from Soda's arms and ran to his mother. "Hey, darlin, you miss me?"

Andy jibber-jabbered as young kids do while Soda made plates of food for them both to eat. They sat at the table and talked while I finished putting away the laundry. Looking back at them chatting away at the table oblivious to my presence, I was happy for Soda. He had finally gotten over Sandy. I desperately hoped Patty wouldn't break his heart somehow.

"Hey guys!" Two-Bit was back, another trip out of town finished for the day. Of course he made a bee line for the food, what was left of it anyway. As he finished his plate, the front door opened once more to welcome Steve inside. My house was full again. I vaguely remembered a time back when Soda was presumed dead. I had wished for my house to be full of people as it was before the draft notice came. I had gotten my wish, but yet... looking over at the crowd, it still seemed empty.

A glint of red caught my eye and I stepped outside for a moment. The sky was dark overhead as the last rays of sun started to ebb away into night. I couldn't help but wonder all my many _where, what_ and _why_ questions that always came along with the sunset. There had been too many sunsets since I last saw his eyes.

The screen door opened and shut softly behind me, and Soda was at my side. Neither of us spoke as the last glint of red disappeared, and the world was dark once more.

XX

I roamed the mall hunting for action. Unfortunately, there ain't no action to be found in the middle of the day in the middle of the week. Hot women were at work and the teens hanging around here skipping classes didn't excite me any. I was getting too old for this.

Everyone was moving on, well almost everyone. Darry was still roofing houses and the kid, whether he was here or not was still giving him enough worry to have an ulcer. Soda was in love, only a dimwitted moron could miss that. Two-Bit was employed...yikes! That alone showed my how much things had changed. But I was still working on cars, only now, it actually felt like _**work**_. It just wasn't the same without Soda there. That new guy and I just didn't jell. I was beginning to wonder if it was time for me to have my own career change too.

I finished my Coke and strolled around a bit more. I didn't want to leave cause if I did, I'd only end up at the Curtis house where Two-Bit was hanging out with the kid. Soda had asked me to watch him, but that just ain't my scene. I've been roped into that twice already, and the first time the kid spilled his drink all over me and the floor, the second time the rugrat pee'd on me. That was enough. I could endure the torture of the mall as long as bodily fluids aren't exchanged. Speaking of bodily fluids....

I found the bookstore and made my way to the magazine rack. I looked at the selection but was just about as bored with that until I found something new. It was the October issue of Playboy, one I didn't have yet. Wondering who was on the centerfold, I picked it up and started turning the pages. _Mmmmhh, Miss October's looking mighty nipply!_ Damn...I realized the clerk was giving me the eye. I grabbed some other magazine and hid the Playboy inside it then turned a bit so it wasn't so friggin obvious. Eventually the clerk got bored watching me, and I was once again left in peace to enjoy the enlightening news articles this particular periodical had to offer.

I went cover to cover with it. _Not bad_, I thought, _but I think last August's issue was better._ Oh well. I put the playboy back and flipped the other magazine down too. I made it about six feet when I suddenly stopped in my tracks and almost swallowed my tongue. Turning an about face that would have impressed any of my old drill instructors, I made it back to the magazines and picked that second magazine back up.

_Horseman's Trader. _Where was it, where was it..... I flipped the pages so fast I was sure I'd miss it. But did I really _**see**_ it? Then there it was. Page 92.

_**Horse for Sale. Quarter Horse, Palomino, Appaloosa. Located on Ponyboy's Ranch near Wolf Creek, Montana. Call ###-###-#### for information.**_

Holy Shit! I found him.

XXX

"Darry, Soda!"

What the hell? "Steve, pipe down. We're in the back. What are you screaming about?"

Steve came tearing through the house at us, a weird look on his face. He stopped in front of us, breathing fast and shaking a little. His eyes darted from me then to Soda, then back to me again. I hadn't seen him like this since he said he was joining up when Soda got drafted. He held out a magazine, shaking it some and not from nerves either.

"I found him. Ponyboy. He's in Montana."

Soda and I both stopped, then I snatched the magazine from him. "What are you talking about?" I looked at the cover. _Horseman's Trader_? I didn't understand.

"Page 92...."

Now Soda ripped the magazine from my hands. Furiously flipping through the pages, then scanning the ads on that page. "Where...I don't see it." He said.

Then my eyes found it, and I pointed to it. We both read the ad at the same time. "Where the hell is Wolf Creek, Montana?" I asked out loud to no one in particular.

"Montana!" Soda suddenly said, realizing something. "That's where that woman said she sent his birth certificate to."

I went to the kitchen and grabbed the phone, dialing the number in the magazine.

"Hello?" The voice said on the other end. I didn't recognize it. Even though it probably has changed in two years, deepening some, it still didn't sound like him.

"Ponyboy?" I asked, hesitating.

"What?....you must have the wrong num...."

"The horses that are for sale." I interrupted him.

"Oh, yeah...They're at Mike's ranch, but I don't think he's gonna sell those last two."

"Mike? As in Michael Curtis?" I asked, straining to keep my voice under control, keep the excitement out of my voice. Keep from screaming.

"I _think_ that's his last name. He's just keeping them for me on his property. But I really don't think he's wanting to get rid of them."

"Where's the ranch at?"

"Down Brokenridge Highway. Between Wolf Creek and Pembroke."

"Thank you." I said and hung up.

Soda's eyes were burning holes in me. "Well?"

"Go pack. We're going to Montana." I said.

"Can we come this time?" A voice said from the doorway.

I looked over out of my daze. Two-Bit and Steve were both looking at me. "Sure, guys, but I can't promise we'll find him."

"We'll be back in a half hour." The guys left, tires squealing out of my driveway. I shook my head. They only live a block over each way, no need to get so heavy footed.

Soda was on the phone when I turned around.

"Patty, honey, something came up and we're going to be out of town...... All of us...... No, I'm sorry, we can't watch him...... I don't know when we'll be back ....... I love you too." He hung up.

I looked at him. "Do you?" I asked.

He looked at me. "Huh?"

"Do you _love_ her?" I said.

He looked down, pausing a minute, then looked back at me again. "Yeah, I do." He said with conviction.

I smiled and gripped his shoulder. "Bout time you admitted it."

"Aww, lemme alone, I got to pack." He ducked out of my grip and went off to his room. A second later, I went down the hall to my own room to do the same.

XXX

"Four tickets for whatever airport is closest to Wolf Creek, Montana." I said to the lady at the ticket counter.

She looked it up and said finally, "That would be Helena Regional Airport, about 28 miles away from Wolf Creek." She paused, waiting on me.

"Fine." Soda said from next to me, impatient as all get out.

I paid for the trip and all four of us put our bags down. We took the tickets she handed us and went on down to the terminal. The plane would be leaving in an hour, and as the seconds wound their way off the clock, it ended up being the quietest hour I think I had ever spent with them. No one could speak, even Two-Bit was silent. I stared out the window, trying to pass the time but it didn't help. After what seemed like an agony of wait, the ticket people finally showed up and began the boarding process.

As the plane was pushed away from the gate, I felt Soda's hand brushing up against mine. I looked at him, his eyes were closed and tiny beads of sweat were forming along his hairline. I hadn't seen him like this before. It worried me.

"It's gonna be okay, Soda. It may be him, it may not. Don't get this worked up."

He opened his eyes and looked at me, then realized what I'd said. Finally he shook his head. "It's not that, Darry. I _know_ it's him. It's just...last time I was on a plane...I was almost _dead_.

Then I remembered, and felt so stupid. War was hell, and recovering from it wasn't easy either. I hadn't even thought about what flying would be like for him. I looked over my shoulder at Steve, but he seemed okay, flipping through some magazine he found in the seat pocket. I took Soda's hand and squeezed it. "It's gonna be okay little buddy." I said softly to him. As the plane began its rapid acceleration and lifted off the ground, I felt him squeeze back.

The flight lasted a little over 2 hours. Steve and Two-Bit were having their own colorful discussion on women and ways to make them get off, and I tried to shut them up with stern looks, but it had little effect. Then I decided to try to tune them out, but that didn't work either. I was a guy too, after all. Soda and I just sat there in front of them, smiling at the crap the guys were coming up with. Finally I felt the wings dip and we started the descent.

We got our bags, rented a car then headed out. I got directions from the rental office and had a map of the area.

As the roads changed from highways to country roads, then forked onto Brokenridge Highway, not much was said by anyone. I passed the town of Pembroke, then headed on to Wolf Creek. I drove in silence, nervous as to what we'd find.

Finally I saw the fresh white fencing, and felt Soda nearly cleave my arm in half when the wrought iron archway with our brothers name on it came into view. I turned left onto the driveway, and headed slowly up the hill. Ahead of us on the hill was a ranch style house with a wrap-around porch. A single car was parked in front on the grass but I didn't see anyone around.

"Guys, any thoughts on how we're gonna do this?" I asked. No one spoke except Soda.

"It's gotta be him, Darry. It's gotta be!"

CLR


	61. Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Men at the Door

The knock on the front door surprised me. I had my hands covered in soapy bubbles trying to clean the dishes before Ponyboy got home, and was not exactly expecting company. I dried them on the dishtowel and made my way to the door.

There were four men standing there. A big strong guy, muscular and tanned with worry lines permanently etched in his face stood in front. Next to him was another man, almost the same height who's sharp features were familiar to me but I couldn't place it. He was leaner in build, but also well defined.

Behind them stood the other two men. One had reddish curly hair and the other with dark hair. The dark haired one had a brooding scowl on his face, but the red head looked like he was on an adventure. I wasn't sure about these men, but I opened the door anyway.

"Yes, can I help you?" I asked. They seemed surprised to see me, as if expecting someone else. It took a few seconds before the big guy in front spoke.

"Pardon me, miss. We've come a long way. Does Ponyboy live here by chance?"

"Yes, but he's not here right now. Something I can help you with?"

They just stood there, the men in the front as still as statues, the ones in the back shuffling their feet. Finally the smaller guy in front pulled out his wallet and handed me a picture.

"Is this him?" He asked me in a quiet voice. I looked at it and smiled. It was Ponyboy, but much younger and with hair longer than I've ever seen him wear it. I handed the photo back.

"Yes, that's my fiancé. Who are you?"

Suddenly all eyes jerked on me like I was on fire. I pulled the door closer, ready to put it between me and them if I had to.

"Fiancé?" The red haired said softly, eyes open in astonishment.

"Damn." The sour faced one joined in.

"Who are you?" I asked nervously.

"I'm Pony's brother." The smaller one with the picture said to me.

I opened the door a bit wider again. "Darry?" Disbelief was running rampant in me.

"No ma'am. Sodapop. He's Darry." He pointed at the big guy next to him.

Wouldn't have mattered if he had said Santa....I stopped hearing anything after he said 'Sodapop'. I stared at him, not able to move or barely breathe. "But....you're dead!" It was all I could say.

He glanced at the men around him then back at me. "No ma'am. I assure you, I'm very much alive."

"May we come in?" The big guy, Darry, asked. I moved aside and let the men in the house, but I couldn't move away from the door. My hand still frozen on the knob.

"Ponyboy told me....you were...." I could barely whisper the words.

"Ma'am," Darry said, "I know it's confusing. It was a mistake. We've been searching for Ponyboy for two years. We need to see him, talk to him and straighten this whole mess out. When do you expect him back?"

"Ashley....my name is Ashley." I closed the door then held out my hand and Darry took it, shaking it gently. Sodapop took it next and kissed my knuckles like they do in old movies. I could feel my cheeks blush and took a breath, trying to get over this shock. Ponyboy was right, Sodapop certainly was the charmer. "He went up town for some grocery. I expect him back anytime. Why don't you come to the living room and wait. Can I get you men anything?"

"Miss Ashley, you have a nice home here." The red head said, looking around and ignoring my question.

"This is Ponyboy's home and land, not mine. I live up in town."

"You said you were his fiancé?" Sodapop asked.

I blushed. I looked at my ring and remembered my shock at seeing him drop on his knee. Never had a "yes" been so easy to say that day.

"Yes. Ponyboy asked me a few weeks ago. I accepted."

The men all looked at my finger, and the one with a scowl gave a low whistle.

"Wow." Chimed in the red head.

Darry and Sodapop just looked at each other, saying nothing.

"We're forgetting our manners. Miss Ashley, my name's Two-Bit. This sullen looking creature next to me is Steve. We've been friends with your betrothed since before he got his big boy teeth."

"Cut it out, Two-Bit." Steve gave Two-Bit a shove. "Steve Randle, ma'am." He said, introducing himself to me while shaking my hand.

I didn't know what to say, unsure of everything. "I know you must have questions. I'm not sure I can answer them..."

"Does he miss us?" Darry said before I could say more.

It stopped me, remembering Ponyboy crying in the hospital for the men now standing in his kitchen. One presumed gone forever, the other supposedly moving on with his own life. I could clearly see their lives stopped the moment Ponyboy left, and I knew all to well how Ponyboy suffered missing his family. I looked at the men with such sadness. How can one simple 'yes' answer to his question pull all the fear, pain and agony I knew Ponyboy has felt over leaving his home and life into their realm of knowledge? It wouldn't.

"Leaving you was the hardest thing he has ever done, and I know he has desperately wanted you to know that he loves you, misses you and has thought of you every single day and night of his life since. That much I do know. Beyond _anything_ else. Even beyond his love for me."

My answer left them silent.

CLR


	62. Chapter 62

Chapter 62

Binding the Ties

Darry finally parked the car next to the small Chevy in front of the house and I was ever so happy to get out, finally able to feel the ground under my feet. Looking around, I couldn't see anyone - but in the distance I heard the familiar whinny of a horse.

Darry and I went up the porch steps together, Steve and Two-Bit followed behind us. "You think this is it? That he lives here?" Steve asked quietly.

"We're about to find out." Darry said, knocking on the door.

As the bolt slid from the lock a few seconds later, I expected to see my little brother standing there. Instead, a pretty young woman opened the door and stood there, smiling at us, dishtowel in hand.

She asked us if she could help us and I didn't really know what to say. Finally, Darry ended the suspense and asked if Pony lived here. I wasn't sure if I expected a yes or a no anymore, but my heart jumped when she said "yes". But what was a woman doing here? Alone, in_ his_ house?

She didn't know us and we didn't know her, and for once and for all I was tired of this cat and mouse game. I reached into my wallet and pulled out the picture I had been carrying of Pony since before I was deployed. A picture so worn I was surprised it hadn't disintegrated from all the hours I had spent holding it, crying on it, and yes, had even bled on it. I had it with me when I was shot, had it with me while I recovered in the hospital in 'Nam, had it on the plane, and had it every day since coming home. It was the last picture I had of him, taken the day he turned 16. I handed it to her and she looked at it, then smiled. That smile told me everything I needed to know. I _knew_ it was him. I just_ knew_ it. She handed it back to me then gave _me _the shock of a lifetime.

"Yes, that's my fiancé."

_**What**__ did she just say? What the __**hell**__ did we_ _**miss**_**?**

XX

His fiancé. My little brother had run away from home and found both money _and_ love. I wasn't sure which shocked me more.

I wasn't about to judge her. Not yet. Ponyboy was mindful of at least two things in life. Those two things I could trust him on. One was education and the need to have it, the other was women. He had been smart on both those subjects while living under my roof, but what had happened while out from under it? I thought of all those prayers for him to _please _be smart...oh hell...I hoped he had been.

Sudden memories of his theme from Mr. Syme's class came back to me. He wrote that he wanted to live in the country, where he could read and draw. He didn't want to be worried about being hurt anymore. Most of all he did _not_ want to be married to a "scatterbrained broad with no sense."

Looking around, I realized he had at least made_ those_ dreams come true. He was definitely out in the country, and the young lady in front of us seemed as nice, warm and down to earth as she could be.

When she said my name without being prompted, it startled me. So Pony _had_ spoken of me to her, at least enough for her to know he had a family. But when Soda said his own name, she looked as shocked as I could imagine. I almost thought she was going to buckle under and hit the floor. I thought it prudent that we go inside, so at least she could sit down. I had a feeling this was gonna be a day filled with a lot of surprises for everyone.

After we came inside, I tried not to make my glances obvious. It was a nice home. Still had the smell of 'new' to it. Hardwood floors, bright open spaces, raised ceilings. Pony _would_ have a house larger than mine, much larger. I remember how he hated being so cramped up.

She led us into the living room where the first thing I noticed was the piano. Not an upright like mom's, but a baby grand. Beautiful and black. She would have been so proud. I felt pride swell up in me too. My eyes caught sight of something else and I touched Soda's arm. He caught my gaze and followed it. Sitting on top of the piano in silver colored frames were the two pictures I hadn't seen in two years. Our parents. I smiled, Pony had not forgotten his roots.

Steve and Two-Bit were yapping, cutting into my thoughts and it brought my attention back to the young woman in front of us. She was commenting on Pony's proposal and like any future bride, held out her left hand to show off the coveted ring placed there by our youngest brother. We all leaned forward giving it a fitting glance and even_ I _was impressed. That wasn't some chip...it was a whole rock. Damn, that brother of mine had taste!

After we stepped back from diamond gazing, no one seemed sure what to say. Even Ashley, as she had introduced herself to us a while ago, seemed suddenly uncomfortable. But when she asked us for questions, I had only one on my immediate mind. For as much as I missed him, did he even miss us?

When she looked at us with immense sadness and gave her answer, I felt so broken inside. All this heartbreak should _**never have happened**_. In the quiet that followed, I looked around the room. In the corner stood a book shelf with pictures standing up in their frames.

"Is this him?" I asked. The gang gathered around me and Ashley came over to see too.

"Yes. That was our prom picture. He was so sweet that night...." Soda and I both turned and looked at her. She looked down but I didn't miss the fact that she had turned beet red and could only stare at her bare feet. Reminded me of Pony, when he was put in an otherwise awkward situation. He'd look away and turn scarlet too. Had he actually managed to find someone as innocent as he was? Perhaps there was hope.... Either Soda missed it, or he chose to let it go.

"He finished high school?" Soda asked, unsure of this development.

"Yes and no. He finished with his GED. That picture was from my prom. He was my date."

"How'd he get his GED?" I asked. I had his records tagged. No one had tried to access them.....

"I'd better let him explain it." She said softly.

Next to the prom pictures were other pictures of Pony and Ashley. I looked closely at them. Wow. That little brother of mine has certainly been busy. Even more than I even thought possible. I could tell even before seeing him again that he'd grown up. I wasn't sure who I'd meet when I did see him, but it wouldn't be the scared, thin, depressed, naive little brother that ran off. He had grown up. Had a home and property. Had a fiancée who, I could tell through her words, eyes and body language loved him completely. I only wondered what else had changed.

I looked at Soda, Two-Bit and Steve, and knew we would be too much for him all at once.

"Soda, Steve...I don't think Pony needs to get the shock of his life right off the bat. I need you two to hang back when he comes in. Two-Bit, take the car and pull it around the back." I handed him the keys and he went out the door. Soda, however, was looking furiously at me.

"You don't expect me to _not_ see him. I hope you know better than that!"

"No, Soda...just...lets stagger this so I can prepare him. He thinks you're dead...remember? This is gonna be too much for him to handle all at once." I pleaded with him. Two-Bit came back in and joined us.

"Come on, Soda. Darry's right." Steve was rubbing Soda's shoulder, trying to get him to see it my way, and for that I was glad. "I'll stay back with you."

"Miss Ashley, is there another room..." Two-Bit started to ask but she had already started to lead Soda and Steve down a dark hall to another room adjacent to this one. They got quiet as I heard her return and saw from the window a car driving up the driveway.

Ponyboy Curtis was coming home.

Now Ashley turned to me, a bit of panic in her own eyes.

"You and Two-Bit stay here. I want to talk to him first." She said, glancing out the windows then turning back to me again. "Please..." she said, desperation masking her voice into a whisper.

"Yes, ma'am." I said nervously. She walked back to the kitchen waiting on his arrival. Quietly, Two-Bit came next to me, hand on my shoulder. I wondered if he could feel me shaking. Neither Two-Bit nor I could see into the kitchen, but when I heard the door open, my heart wanted to tear itself out of my chest as I heard the familiar yet somewhat deeper voice call out.....

XX

"Ashley, honey, I'm back." I put the bags on the counter as she came into the kitchen. She pulled me into a hug, not letting me go. Something was wrong...she wasn't smiling. To be honest, she looked worried. I cupped her chin and gently lifted her face, peering into the tears swimming in her eyes.

"Ashley, honey, what's wrong?"

"You know how much my family means to me, don't you?" She quietly asked.

"Of course." I answered, smoothing her hair back. "Has something happened?" I thought of her father and mother, wondering if bad news had come while I was out.

"Family is at the root of a person. Without them, you have no ground to grow from."

"Ashley, darlin, you're not making any sense..."

"I love you, Ponyboy. Always remember that. What ever happens today, please don't forget that." She pulled me tight, her tears dampening my shirt.

"I love you too, honey..." I didn't know what's spooked her, but I held her close. Then she looked at me, kissed me gently and whispered softly......

"You have company in the living room."

I looked at her, confused, then looked toward the empty open doorway leading to the next room. She gave me a slight nudge, starting me in that direction. With one last questioning look back at her, I entered the living room. My life was going to change again.

There in front of me stood two people. As soon as I saw them, my breathing hitched and I grabbed the chair next to me. I watched as I saw my brother calmly hold out his arms and say simply "Ponyboy," beckoning me to him, but I couldn't move my feet.

My mind had frozen in time, then went into reverse. Remembering track meets, people cheering me on from the stands, holding me high on their shoulders after victories so sweet. I remembered the accolades for good grades and admonishments for grades less than par. Then I remembered rumbles, injury and pain. Finally I remembered him with his arm around my shoulder as I watched our other brother be driven away to his death. "Darry!" I called out, desperate to be held by him again.

My legs unlocked and my feet were able to move. I held out my hand, reaching to my brother whom I left so long ago. He met me half way across the room and wrapped me in his strong arms, holding me so tight I could barely get air into my lungs. I could feel him rocking me ever so slightly, feel his heart beating as strong as ever in his chest. He loved me so much and I loved him the same. We were brothers, once lost, now found. I would _never_ do this again, no matter who I lost.

Tears fell from my eyes and as I looked into his I saw tears flowing too. I no longer needed to look up, though, we were almost matched in height. Standing near the corner of the room, I saw Two-Bit, looking just as he always did. He'd hardly changed at all. While still holding Darry in a fierce embrace, I held out my hand to him and he came over to me, at first taking my hand then standing next to me, his hand resting on my shoulder.

XXX

Pony had grown up. From the moment he walked in the room, I could see he was nothing like the kid I last saw in Tulsa. As I stood next to him, I could see the man he had become. He had grown strong. Two years of worry as to the fate of the youngest member of our gang washed away as I stood here, and I knew I would finally be able to sleep again, smile again, and laugh again. I looked at his face, still so young and innocent in appearance compared to ours, but stronger and more determined too. I teased him, my own unique way of showing love.

"Hell, Ponyboy, I see you_ finally_ started shaving...but did you _really_ have to go so far away to get a razer?"

He grinned at me and reached over to my hand resting on his shoulder, squeezing it. The warmth of friendship was still there.

XX

Finally I let Pony go. He stood eye to eye with me now. Grown up, tall and strong. He had filled out well. Muscles visibly standing out on his biceps and while holding him I could feel the strength his body had developed concealed beneath his clothes. His hair was cut short, he wore it neatly combed and without any semblance of the old style he used to wear. Any trace of his "greaser" past was gone. This look suited him. He was never meant to be a "greaser" anyway. I wiped away a tear that had fallen onto his cheek from the green eyes I had for so long waited to see again. Then he found his voice.

"How did you find me?"

"It wasn't me, Pony, who found you." He looked at me, not understanding. I wrapped my arm around him because I knew what came next would be a shock. With his eyes on mine, I turned my head at the hallway and nodded in that direction. Pony turned to see what I was looking at and from out of the shadows stepped Soda and Steve.

XXX

Darry had held me and I couldn't believe this was real. So many times I had wanted to see him, hear his voice, and now here he was, somehow in my house with Two-Bit too. I couldn't hold back the floodgate of emotion that flowed from me. What ever had happened to cause this, I was grateful. But there was something else, and as he wrapped his arm around me, I followed his gaze as he looked down the hallway.

In front of me was someone my heart had ached for for so long, someone who's laughing grin and dancing eyes I thought I'd only see again in my dreams. But they were _here_..._all _of them, in my _house_....and they were_ real_...._**alive**_! I couldn't speak, I dared not breathe. This _couldn't _be real..._**could it**_?

"Ponyboy," said Soda.

XX

Tears were already streaming down my face and glancing at Steve, I saw his eyes were red too. As soon as Pony saw me, he turned pale as a ghost and began to both shake and sob, tears rolling down worse than before. He reached for me. Darry had been holding him which I was grateful for, because Pony's reserve was gone. His knees buckled and Darry gently lowered him to the floor, too weak with emotion to stay standing up. In an instant my arms enveloped him in the embrace I had for so long ached for.

In the seconds that passed next, I returned back in time to being an eighteen year old draftee who held onto my terrified sixteen year old brother, desperate for me to not go to war. I took him completely from Darry now, cradling him in my lap, my arms surrounding him, hands smoothing his hair and repeating over and over and over..."It's alright, baby, I'm here, I'm here."

Finally Pony sobbed out... "They said you were dead!"

"They were wrong." I softly answered.

"They said you were dead, Soda! I have the letter!" He gripped me so tightly I thought my shirt would rip. Let it, I didn't care.

"It was a mistake, Ponyboy. They were wrong, baby....they were wrong."

XXX

Darry kneeled down and put his arms around his huddled brothers, feeling their bodies rise and fall as Pony's sobs came and went. He looked up and saw Two-Bit standing there, tears also streaming down his face. On Darry's other side stood Steve, wiping his eyes, reddened by his own love for the family who took him in so long ago when his own family failed him so miserably. At long last, they were complete again. The splintered ties of love were bound again.

The three Curtis brothers held each other, arms intertwining, tears flowing and murmurs of "I love you baby, it's all right," being whispered from one to another. Finally the tears waned and they loosened their grip on each other.

Pony pulled back, looking at his brother's faces so close to him and whispered the question yet again.

"How did you find me?"

"We didn't find you, Pony. Steve did." Soda said.

Three sets of eyes looked at Steve, who huddled behind Darry.

"How?" Pony asked him.

"You had a horse for sale." Steve explained, reaching into his back pocket and pulled out the ad. "I saw the word 'Ponyboy's' and couldn't believe it. There couldn't be two of you. No way. Showed it to they guys and here we are."

Steve looked closer at him. Ponyboy was no longer a kid, he had grown up and was a man. By the looks of his home, he had done well. His anger at the kid was gone, because the kid _himself_ was gone. Steve reached out his hand to Ponyboy and, confused, Ponyboy took it, shaking it, surprised by Steve's firm grip.

"It's good to see you again, Ponyboy. I missed you."

"Same to you, Steve. I missed you too."

XXXX

This one action by Steve, a guy who never gave me much attention except to tease or torment me, brought me back to my senses. I wasn't a kid anymore. I was a successful illustrator and soon to be a published author. I was a college student, a part time track coach, a homeowner and was engaged to be married....Oh shit!

"Ashley!" I called out, abruptly unfolding myself from the family I loved. They let me go but looked at me. "Honey, are you still here?"

I went into the kitchen and found her sitting in a chair staring at her textbooks.

Behind me, the guys had gathered in the doorway and I didn't mind them watching me. I had grown past that. I kneeled down so I could see her. Her eyes were still damp from crying her own multitude of tears. Tears for me and my family...eventually her family as well.

"Honey, are you alright?" I asked her, wiping away the moisture from her cheeks.

She took both her hands and cupped my face, peering down into my eyes, saying nothing. With her finger, she gently wiped away the last of my own tears and smiled. Then she leaned forward, kissing me softly on the lips and quietly said to me...

"I am now, honey. Our family is complete."

CLR

Thus ends my saga. I never meant for it to be so long, but the story went where it went and I had to go with it. I hope you like it. I plan on a follow up in the near future..so the things left unfinished will be finished. But the splintered ties are bound once again. Did anyone catch the irony that the one guy that Pony always thought disliked him, was the one that found him? Just wondering.

My thanks to all the many, many readers and reviewers...it was for you that I worked so hard. My thanks also go to SE Hinton for her wonderful works that we all enjoy so much.

Lastly I would like to give thanks to all the members of the United States Armed Forces, who work diligently to keep us all safe. To those who have died in combat and to those who still take on the front lines. You are not forgotten. All gave some, some gave all. Ooh Rah! Semper Fi


End file.
